Meant To Be
by mcmachine
Summary: Married Japril, all of the moments that they should have had, all of the moments that they would have had if the divorce never happened.
1. My Lothario

**_APRIL_**

It was the weekend of the Harper Avery's event, which meant that it was pretty much pure chaos for anyone who had _Avery_ as their last name.

However, for all professional intents and purposes, I was still April Kepner. The Avery only was added when it came to personal matters, children, church. I had earned my M.D. and F.A.C.S as a Kepner, so I fully planned on keeping it there. It hadn't been much of a big deal for Jackson, fortunately. He didn't mind me asserting my independence. According to him, it was sexy. I was more than happy to please on the matter.

Spending my Saturday night alone, though? Not exactly the most fun in the world. I'd worked a little later than usual for the sake of avoiding it and well, there was always some kind of insanity occurring in the emergency room when it came to Saturday nights. One of the few reliable things about the trauma department. But I could only stay lingering around for so long before finally retiring home. Our apartment felt infinitely bigger when it was just me occupying it. Cooking was much more boring when I didn't have him there to tease me, too.

It's late in Boston, without a doubt. But that wasn't about to stop me from pulling out my phone and texting him, seeing if he was still up. He probably was. He was always more of a night owl than a morning person.

[ _Sent_ ] Hey :) Are you still awake?

I type quickly and hit send, waiting impatiently for him to reply. I pull up the news app and skim through the headlines for only a moment as I waited, immediately flipping back to my messages when my phone dinged to indicate that he had replied.

[ _Received_ ] Yup. What's up?

[Sent] Nothing. Just cleaned the kitchen and now I'm bored…

 _Maybe_ the ellipsis was being a little teasing and trying to evoke some kind of reaction out of him, but I'd have to get my kicks where I could get them tonight. Hopefully, it would get the reaction out of him that I wanted.

[ _Received_ ] Yeah? What are you wearing?

I snort at the forwardness of his reply even if it's exactly what I'd wanted him to say in the first place. I scroll through the different emojis in my phone to answer, trying to find one to settle on. When I don't reply quickly, my phone buzzed once more with a follow-up text from him.

[ _Received_ ] Do you want to hear what the girl I'm with is wearing? ;)

I scrolled away from the limited clothing emojis option, clicking on the upside down smiley face three times and sending it without a caption. A moment later I follow up.

[ _Sent_ ] I will not even hesitate to strangle you on Monday.

[ _Received_ ] Can you even reach my neck?

Of course he had just said that, the little shit. I snorted and get off the couch, making my way to the bedroom quickly so I could get in another reply before he did. I slip out of my clothes and down to the floral printed bra and black panties that I'm wearing. I rarely take pictures like this for him. It's a treat, usually. But right now I just want something to irritate the life out of him. I toy with the angle of the camera for a moment and my posture to produce a sultry pose before taking a picture. My face is cropped from it so it's unidentifiable to anyone else, but he'd known.

[ _Sent_ ] Image-10932,jpg

I smirk to myself for a moment and set down my phone to change into a pair of pajamas before crawling into bed. Stretching out across the king size bed obnoxiously until I'm satisfied, I settle in the middle, pulling his pillow up against my front and wrapping myself around it. I check my phone again, seeing that he had already responded.

[ _Received_ ] Damn, baby… you really know how to give a man exactly what he wants.

[ _Sent_ ] Goodnight! ;)

I wait for a moment just to see that he's typing and lock my phone, placing it face down on the nightstand so the glow of my screen lighting up wouldn't distract me. Switching off the lamp, I snuggle up once more comfortably in our bed, breathing in the smell of my husband before drifting off to sleep with a satisfied smile on my face.

The rest of the weekend came and went without anything interesting happening. Sunday, naturally, I woke up to a couple of confused text messages and some pouty emojis that only get another winking face in response to. I'd learned to play the same games that he did in the course of our friendship, and I thought that now I was learning to do a pretty good job of it.

Monday morning had brought an early surgery, pulling into the ambulance bay almost at the exact same time that I got to work. I'd been anticipating greeting Jackson was soon as he got to work, knowing that both he and Catherine would be showing up there once they returned from Boston, but instead I'd spent time in the O.R. I couldn't decide if it was too early or too late in the morning for a drunk driving accident to be the thing getting me cutting into people.

Scrubbing out, the first thing on my to do list is to get fresh coffee knowing the traveler mug that I had brought in earlier was now going to be cold. Then it was to find my husband.

Two birds, one stone. My gaze was down on my phone as I waited in line for the cart, debating with myself for a moment if I wanted to get a blueberry muffin or be a little healthier and just go with a banana. But before I have to make my decision, there's a finger pinching my rear and I jump a mile.

"Oh, you little–" It's not like I don't know it's him. It's exactly because I know it's him.

Turning around, before anything else could come out of my month, Jackson had already bent down and captured my lips in a firm kiss. He's warm and tasted like coffee already, mouth dominating over mine with the tension of a few days apart. He pressed his tongue against my lips, begging for an entrance. It's just public enough of a setting that I don't let it happen yet, smiling against his mouth for a brief moment before pulling away.

"Hey." Jackson grinned down at me like he'd never done a thing wrong in his life.

"Hi, stranger," I beamed at him for a moment, looping my arms around his waist. "Missed you."

There's a slight pause as we make our way to the front of the line and I order a vanilla iced coffee and grab a banana, letting him pay for me. Things like that had become less of a big deal since we had gotten married. He accompanied me as I walked back to the emergency room.

"So, do you still plan on strangling me?" He teased, his hand resting on my hip and pulling me in closer.

"I haven't made up my mind yet." I quipped, glancing up at him with a raise of my brows and watching his face for a brief moment. "Maybe I'll decide tonight." I'm teasing him, it's something that we've never really discussed. It's not like I don't know about breath play. I'd spiraled deep into the Internet about different kinks. I'd been insecure, wanting to know and understand more, and I'd found out more than I had ever really intended to. That was just another one of those things.

Something devious glinted in the green eyes staring back down at me and my eyebrow raised even higher if it was possible. Normally he was in charge of those types of things. But it seemed like he was at least considering it. Huh. Jackson leaned down and kissed me once more, hand slipping to my ass and give it a gentle squeeze.

"We're at work." I reminded him when I pulled away, slapping him lightly on the chest.

"Everyone knows that we're married now, babe. A little PDA isn't going to be the end of the world." He quipped back without any hesitation. He leaned down once more, and this time the kiss was sweet and chaste. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Mmhm."

Going about the rest of my day as quickly as I can, I can't help but think about it. We had sex on a regular basis, but there was something a little extra magical about when there was a few days apart. That just made me all the more excited for tonight.

We drive home separately since his car had stayed parked at the hospital since Friday. He's already parked in the garage by the time I get there. I smile to myself for a moment as I park and grab my purse, heading inside of the house and hanging up my keys on the hook by the door. My shoes and jacket follow getting dumped by the door. No voice greets me and I pause to listen for a moment, hearing the sound of the shower running. Perfect.

I slid out of my jeans first thing, tossing them into the laundry bin. I pause for a moment to unpack the suitcase that he had left on the bed, mostly just wanting it out of the way. He never took long in the shower so it doesn't surprise me when I hear it shut off once I've tucked his suitcase back underneath our bed.

There are definitely other things that I could have been doing. Getting a head start on dinner probably would have been a good idea considering that he probably hadn't had a home-cooked meal the entire time that he'd been in Boston. But I've got a one-track mind. My only plan was laying on the bed in my underwear and waiting for him to emerge from the bathroom. After waiting for what felt like an impossibly long time, he stepped out of the master bath with nothing but a white towel hanging low around his waist, letting out a long, low whistle when he sees me.

"So you did miss me," Jackson chuckled lowly, letting the towel drop from his hips.

The bed shifted underneath his weight as he climbed onto it and I welcome his presence, lips mashing down against mine. His weight rested on top of mine and he just barely gyrated his hips against the material of my underwear where I can already feel him beginning to harden against me.

"Maybe." Our mouths exchanged a series of feather light kisses, smiling up at him. "I have a request."

"Yeah?" Jackson's face disappeared for the briefest moment as his head dipped down and licked a hungry stripe across the curve of my neck, resulting in me drawing in a short breath. He knew exactly what that did to me, leaving me overwhelmed with the flush of adrenaline and arousal flooding my senses.

"I want to be in charge tonight."

Jackson continued to taste the column of my throat, tongue flicking over my pulse point and I let out a content sigh. My legs wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to grind further against me and seeking out the friction there myself. With only thin panties between us, it's too much and not enough at the same time.

"Yeah?" He prompted, sliding back up for a moment and ghosting his mouth across my jawline. "Are you going to choke me?" There's no joke in his voice this time. It seemed like he had been thinking about it just as much as I had.

"Maybe. If you're okay with it," I replied.

"I am." Experimenting was nothing new. We liked to try different things, and I was always a little nervous about keeping things sex and satisfying enough for him. It shouldn't have surprised me that he would agree to something like this so easily.

Expert hands roaming the expanse of exposed skin, my body purring beneath his touch. He kissed the swell of my breasts, mouth skimming the lacy edge of your bra, but ultimately leaving the garment in place. It seemed like he really was letting me in charge. I give him a slight push back so that I can make eye contact as he raised his head up to look at me.

"Touch me." I don't have to say much more than that for him to know exactly what I wanted. Jackson brought his fingers over the material of my panties, stroking the damp spot for a moment. He knows me better than I know myself and it doesn't take him any time at all to find the sweet nub between my legs, rubbing his palm against it. He exhaled slowly, before deftly pulling the panties to the side and stroking me more directly. His touch is light, teasing. Enough to leave me soaking but not get me off. "Roll over. I want to be on top." I requested.

Jackson complied with my request immediately, flipping so that he was laying on my back. I settle on top of him, feeling his erection resting right between my legs. Lifting up slightly, I pull off my panties, tossing them aside. Settling back down, I reach between us, rubbing his tip against my entrance but not pushing him inside of me.

"Fuck, April…" he swore, his hands moving to my hips.

"Uh-uh." I clucked my tongue in disapproval.

As if some kind of punishment, I linger there for a moment, rocking my entrance against his length and letting him feel just how wet I am for him. I lift my hands up and unclip my bra to free my breasts, leaning forward slightly so that he gets a better view of my chest. My hands rest on his shoulder, thumb thumbing along the vein on his neck for a moment.

"Do you want me?" I asked.

"Yes, please, April." The desperation was clear in his voice. I'm not used to having him being the one to beg, but I'd be lying to myself if it wasn't a complete power trip to have him in such a submissive position, all for me.

Guiding him to my entrance, Jackson's hands rest on my thighs and tighten gently, but I give into what he wants. Slowly I sink down onto him, inner walls stretching to accommodate his size. He made a broken, cut off sound as he bottomed out inside of me, and I linger there for a few moments for both of our benefits.

I lift up almost entirely before sinking back down onto him, beginning to move and rock my hips, settling on a quick paced rhythm. It's a little more tiring to be on top for me, but I want to get him off just like this. My hands reach for his for a moment, pulling them up to my breasts.

As he began to thumb over my nipples and tug on them lightly, salacious noises begin to leave my lips. I reached behind me, cupping his balls. I massage and squeeze them, listening to the loud moans and swears that come from his lips. Unless he's talking dirty to me, Jackson's not always the most vocal partner. He's full of grunts and groans, the occasional swearing under his breath. But I'd learned from many blowjobs that he gets noisy when I play with him there.

Swiveling my hips and picking up the pace, I finally lean forward to do the thing that we've talked about. I run my hands up the length of his chest, pausing a moment to thumb his nipples. I know they're more sensitive than he'll say. His face gave it all away.

"Tell me if you don't like it or you want me to stop, okay?" I preface, words a little breathless from the energy spent riding on top of him. But I want to make sure that he's actually okay with it one more time. Jackson nodded his head in confirmation.

Only one hand slides up to wrap around his throat. My hand is small and he's big all over, but I don't want to risk using two or getting caught up in the heat of the moment.

I can feel the heat in my cheeks and I know I have to be red, both from the exertion and arousal. Questioning, I begin to apply a slight amount of pressure, leaning forward just a little more as I continued to bounce along the length of his cock. Much to my surprise, Jackson lets out a little desperate noise, half a whine and half of a moan. It jolted me, electricity me. I would have never guessed the sounds that he would make when he was the one on the bottom would be quite so sexy.

Cautiously, I squeeze along the sides of his neck a little more firmly than before, slowly testing both of our limits. Jackson arched his back up off of the mattress, eyes screwed shut and mouth falling open in a silent moan. I picked up the pace, using my other hand to rub my clit quickly, wanting to bring myself over the edge at the same time that he did.

Jackson shouted when he finally spilled inside of me, losing touch with his body for a brief moment of ecstasy. I release my grip on him as I feel him spilling inside of me, his chest heaving for air as oxygen rushed back into his lungs once more. It only takes another moment for me to hit my own release, squeezing everything out of him and crying out his name loudly. My hips give a few more lazy rolls against him and I slow myself back down, sucking in a few deep breaths of my own.

When I finally pull off of him, his cum dripped out of me and onto my thighs. I don't mind. If anything, I kind of like it.

Rolling off of him and curling up beside him, I wrap my arm around his stomach and pull myself in next to him, resting my head on his chest. I can hear his heart pounding inside of his chest, still rising and falling a little faster than usual. But my eyes roll up to look at him and to watch his face, and he's got this beautiful, goofy smile stretching from cheek to cheek. He looked a little dazed but completely satisfied, staring at the ceiling, no doubt till in his own recovery.

"So that was okay?" I asked after a long moment, pointer finger mindlessly drawing hearts and flowers on his ribs.

"Yeah," Jackson breathed out and brought his gaze down toward my face, smiling more directly at me. I shift up a little, pressing a kiss against his bottom lip and smiling at him. "I might have to let you on top more often," he chuckled and rolled on his side so that he was facing me, his hand moving toward my hip and pulling me in closer.

"I'm gonna get abs like you if we do that." I chuckled, stretching out both my legs. My thighs were a little sore, but it was nothing that a little stretching wouldn't take care of.

"Mm, sexy," he hummed.

"Baby?" I flutter my lashes up at him for a moment. "Next time, you do me."


	2. Jealous

**_JACKSON_**

"Dr. Kepner, we've got an MVC coming in. Two vics, one's suffering major burns to her face and body after the car caught on fire."

The conversation that I had been having with my wife is suddenly interrupted by the notification of a nurse. Other circumstances and I might have minded but work always took precedent when the two of us were under the roof of the hospital, even if I had been rather enamored at the moment with teasing her over the movie selection that she'd chosen last night. Her taste in movies was predictably more feminine and cliche than mine was, not exactly Oscar nominee material.

"You wanna stick around? I might need you down here," April turned toward me after the brief discussion with the nurse, eyebrows raising for my approval. I give a quick nod of my head.

"Sure thing."

I followed her out toward the ambulance bay, tying the back of her gown before snapping on a pair of gloves. The ambulance arrived minutes later, paramedics lifting the gurney out and barking off information about the condition of the patient when they had arrived on scene. I listen and let April take command. Even if I tended to be the boss in most aspects of our life, there's something undeniably sexy about the way that she took control in the emergency room. She owned it.

"Let's page ortho for this pelvis fracture," she instructed one of the residents. I give a glance at it myself before focusing back on the burns at hand. Third degree, nasty, completely ruined the ear on the right side of her head. Not a pretty picture by any means, and not something that would be an easy fix.

"The burns covering nearly fifty percent of the body. Odds aren't looking good." I commented with a brief glance up at her. "She's lost a lot of fluid. She needs plasma."

"She's going into shock," April said only a few seconds later. One of the interns stepped in for a moment to start manual respiration for her. "We need to get her up to the O.R. now. We'll have ortho meet us up there."

A quick nod in agreement is given, sides of the bed snapping up as we rush him over to the elevator and then to the operating room. the nurses get him set up as the two of us begin to scrub in together. The orthopedic surgeon on call interrupted a moment later, and I have to silence a groan of my own when I realize who it is on call.

There's nothing wrong with Dr. Vargas as far as qualifications go. He was a talented surgeon. He'd been at Mass Gen before transferring to Seattle, I'm pretty sure. The thing that I don't like about him was the fact that he had a pretty bad habit of flirting with my wife. It didn't matter what the circumstances were, who else was around. I had made a comment to him about it once before and he denied that it was happening, saying that he was just naturally charismatic and it was nothing to worry about. That didn't make me feel any better about it whatsoever.

Maybe I'm a little chauvinistic, on occasion. But April was my wife.

"Dr. Vargas," I greeted shortly, focusing on making sure my hands were completely scrubbed.

"Afternoon, Avery. April." I don't miss that he's a little more formal with me than he is my wife. Maybe if he was equally friendly to the both of us, then I wouldn't have minded quite as much. But it was pretty clear that I wasn't his type.

"Hi, Hunter," she greeted. "We've got a messy one. Lots of third-degree burns and it's not looking great for her. But we need you to stabilize her pelvic fracture, try to give her a chance. She's young. Twenty-five. I don't like her odds, but…" she trailed off, giving a little shake of her head before using her elbow to turn off the sink.

I don't say anything further to the other doctor, finishing up and turning off the sink a moment after her and following her into the O.R. I give a brief glance at Vargas, noticing that he was already staring at her. Typical.

Most of the time when the two of us are in surgery together, we talk nonstop regardless of what the conversation was about. The work that we were doing usually took up a good portion of it. I enjoyed being in surgery with her – seeing her thrive and the enthusiasm that sparkled in her eyes whenever she accomplished something particularly challenging. There are personal matters to talk about too, of course. But I don't want quite the same banter with her when he's in the room. Mostly, I don't want him inserting himself into the equation in the way that I knew he would.

"You have very nice hands, Dr. Kepner," Vargas commented a few minutes into the surgery, once he'd set the pelvic fracture back into place. There was no reason further for him to actually be in there, but he'd decided to stick around anyways. Just my luck.

"Thank you." I watched her face for a moment as she spoke, seeing the crinkle of her eyes when she smiled from behind her ask. Of course, she was too polite to do a thing about it. As long as it wasn't anything repugnant or of the likes.

I clear my throat and wait till April looked at me to shoot her a look, letting her know just with my eyes that I wasn't particularly comfortable with the conversation. She knows that I have an issue or two with the other doctor and the way that he constantly flirted with her. The first time I had brought it up, she'd insisted that he was just being friendly. The second time, she'd said she was always clear not to reciprocate. Which, well, she was. I believed that. My problem was more with him and his apparent inability to distinguish that just because she wasn't being directly rude back to him, didn't equate to her being interested.

"Dr. Vargas, don't you have other patients that you should be attending to?" I questioned, glancing up from the patient to look directly at him and see if he would take the hint.

"I do have some really great residents taking care of that," he commented back with a shrug of his shoulders, glancing back over at the open body cavity between me and my wife. "If you guys need another set of hands, I don't mind sticking around for a little while longer." Hunter offered.

"I think that we'll be just fine in here," I answered quickly.

April glanced between the both of us for a moment before speaking up. "He's right, we'll be just fine. But I'll send you a little page if we need oath for any other reason." She offered cheerily.

He glanced between the both of us for a moment before mumbling about something about her being right and hoping to see her later. I let the remarks go for now seeing as he was on his way out, more than happy to see his retreating figure. Small victories.

"I was wondering when he would get the hint," I commented with a shake of my head.

"You could be a little nicer to him, you know," April quipped at me, glancing up from the patient between us for a brief moment. I stare at her with furrowed brows, waiting for her to explain. "I mean, sure, he's a little… too much. But he's never inappropriate with me. I mean, the way he treats me is kind of nice compared to the way that other people around here have treated me. It's a change of pace, at least. He's never been anything but nice to me."

"Too nice," I corrected with a shake of my head.

"Still, the point remains the same." She shrugged her shoulders lightly.

I fall quiet for a moment and focus on the patient between us, not wanting to start too much of a disagreement about that guy. His presence was enough and I didn't want to linger on it much more, even if it did bother me how easily she seemed to defend him when it was clear that I was no fan of how over the top friendly he could be with her.

But I couldn't let it go completely. "You know he stares at your ass sometimes, right?" I blurted out.

"What?" April questioned loudly, snapping up to look at me.

"Yeah. He did it when you walked into the O.R. today. Not exactly just friendly." I elaborated.

"Gross," she gave a dramatic little shudder before continuing to work. "Okay, so, maybe he's friendly up front and a little… more than friendly when I'm not paying attention. Fine. But I'm not going to just tell him off in the middle of the workday." She commented with a shake of her head. "Men don't like hearing the word no from women very much."

"Well, he doesn't have to hear it from you. I'm more than happy to have a discussion with him."

Of course, I knew that my version of the conversation wasn't going to be half as friendly as the way that she would have tried to address it with him. But I'm also pretty sure that my version would be the more effective one between the two of us. Sometimes April being so nice could be a little bit of a curse.

The surgery goes on for much longer without talking about the elephant in the room. It's a miracle that the patient had managed to survive for this long with all of the burns covering her body and if she survived, then she was going to have a very long stay in the burn unit from the depth of the injuries that she had sustained in the accident. But I had seen further gone patients come back from the edge of death, and April seemed to be rather hopeful about her odds by the time that she had made it through surgery. Her optimism is enough to make me rethink my own.

I get her settled into the burn unit and her family had made it up to the hospital while the two of us had been in surgery. I take the time to sit down with the two of them and explain to them everything that had happened and the likely course of treatment for their daughter going forward, making sure that they were realistic about the odds.

The surgery had pretty much taken up the entirety of the rest of our work day from the time that it had come in. I'm more than happy to find her already in the attendings lounge when I go up to change, the two of us quickly heading home together.

Even though it was a short car ride back to our apartment, though, I'm not ready to keep my hands off her.

"Jackson…" April's voice was soft, a little bit of a warning. My hand had drifted to the inside of her thigh at a stoplight, looking forward as if I hadn't done a thing wrong in my life, barely managing to keep a smirk off of my features. "What are you doing? We're less than ten minutes away from home."

"I've barely gotten to touch my wife all day," I explained nonchalantly, beginning to palm her core over the material of her jeans. It's too easy to press the seam roughly into her, fingers cupping her core harshly. It's possessive. "Someone might have said that you have good hands. But I want to remind you how good your husband's hands are."

I continued just like that for the rest of the car ride, eventually slipping between her jeans and soaking panties, but never touching her directly like she wanted me to. The sounds that she made were absolutely beautiful, squirming against the seat and my hand, trying to get enough friction and contact to send her spinning over the edge. But I don't give her what she wanted, not just yet. Tonight seemed like the perfect night to remind her exactly who she had married.

Once we're inside of the house, all bets are off.

The front door is slammed shut and I'm picking up off the ground immediately, one of my forearms becoming her seat and the other grabbing the back of the neck. I'm hungry for her, and she's no different, wiggling against me, trying to tease me and get me to let go of control. By the time we reach our bedroom, I'm nearly smothering her when I threw her down onto the bed and climb right back on top of her again.

Her shirt is removed immediately, unclipping her bra quickly and tossing it out of the way. Immediately covering one of her breasts with her mouth, I teased the nipple with my tongue and teeth gently, knowing that with this particular area of her body, a soft touch was better than a hard one. My hand took full advantage of the exposure of her other breast until I finally switched, giving it the same attention as the first, making sure that she was whining and flushed by the time that I was finished with them.

"Jackson, please…" April whined from above me, squirming her hips as my fingers hooked around her waistband.

"Tell me what you want," I commanded.

"You. I want you."

That's all that I need to hear, long past the point of beginning to think with my cock. Baring her bottom half and spreading her legs open so that she was exposed to me, I take a moment to marvel at the sight. She's waxed. I'd never asked her directly to do something like that, never would, but I'm pretty sure she knows how much the sight drives me crazy.

Slowly I kissed her ribs and belly button, taking my time to get where she needed me most. I leave a mark on her hipbone, amused by the little giggle that leaves her lips. Eventually the curve of her pubic bone, then… where she wants me the most. I use my fingers to spread her folds open, tongue moving her the entire length before swirling it around her swollen clit.

"Jackson!" April cried out, her hips rolling involuntarily above me, thighs wrapping around my head. As she invited me in further, I take it for what it's worth, groaning at her taste. It's nearly an assault on her clit, craving her and everything that she could give me, needing to assert my dominance and reminding her that I'm the only one who can make her feel this way, that I'm the one who can treat her right. My zeal and arousal both show as I continue to work her up, not leaving anything wanted. I continued licking and sucking, finally taking her clit between my teeth gently and giving it a little tug, tongue flickering across it. It proved to be too much for her to handle, screaming out as an orgasm flooded her body, hips twitching and jerking as I continued to lick her through it.

When she's finally come down from the high, I clean her thighs and pussy with my tongue, loving the lazier moans that escape from her lips. I'm not done with her yet.

I slide up the length of her body to capture her lips with my own, but my hands stay resting on her thighs for a moment. I know how easy it is to get her to cum a second time if I time it right. I'd promised to show her how good my hands are, after all.

Reaching between her thighs once more, my middle finger connected with her clit, feeling her gasp against my mouth. I rubbed the sensitive bud quick and hard, wanting it to be fast and intense. She came more from clitoral stimulation than any kind of penetration, I knew that. I focus on it, applying pressure. My other hand joined after a moment, slipping two fingers inside of her. She's soaked enough to accept them without resistance and I curl, thrusting into that special spot inside of her.

I watched as she came undone for the second time, my own cock now throbbing painfully against the confines of my pants. But it's worth it, that flush in her cheeks and dazed look in her eyes, knowing that I'm the only man who's ever been able to do this to her. It's an ego trip.

"Do you still want something, baby girl?" I teased her gently, running my hand lazily along the curves of her body.

"Please, Jackson, I want you to fuck me."

I shifted forward to give her exactly what she wanted, wrapping my hand around the base of my cock and aligning myself with her entrance. I move into her with a slow thrust, halfway, before pulling out again and pushing all the way inside of her. She's tight and warm, stretched out around the length of my cock. She's perfect in every possible way.

Balancing my weight on my forearms next to her head, I begin to pick up the rhythm of moving inside of her. Her hands had moved to grasp my ass, pulling me in tighter in encouragement. It did not take long to adjust and adapt to each other's rhythms, the air filled with the sound of skin slapping hard against skin, punctuated by our groans and cries of pleasure. I've never been good at controlling myself with her, and she, the same. Yet something about it worked out perfectly between the two of us.

I buried my face into the curve of her neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent as I fucked her hard. Teeth gently nip at her skin, and after a moment, I give her a proper bite – not hard enough to hurt, but enough that it would leave a big, obvious mark the next day. It's animalistic, nearly, but she doesn't complain: instead, she moans.

My own orgasm was building quickly and I reached down between us to rub her clit vigorously, causing louder and louder moans to begin to spill from her lips. We were both getting closer and closer and I wasn't ready to hold out on my own for much longer.

"Fuck, April, I'm gonna– I'm gonna cum," I grunted out. A few more deep strokes inside of her and I finally hit my peak, melting in satisfaction as I began to ride out my orgasm. She came again moments later, spurting me on with the feeling of her walls squeezing around the length of my cock, both of us a mess of sloppy moans.

I rolled off of her slowly, flopping onto my back next to her so we both had the chance to just breathe and unwind.

"Maybe I should get Dr. Vargas to flirt with me more," April finally spoke after a few moments.

"Huh?" I stuttered out.

"If you're going to do that every time you get jealous, then I need you to be jealous every day."


	3. Sweet Nights

**_APRIL_**

"What are you doing, mister?" I murmured, shifting my hips slightly to turn toward him.

His hand was stretched across the swell of my stomach where our daughter was nestled inside, rubbing my skin gently. My top had just ridden up above my belly button. For the moment, my skin was nice and soft. I'd spread cocoa butter over it early to try and prevent from getting any further stretch marks and he'd helped a little bit before snuggling down into bed with me. Even if my body was exhausted from carrying another human being around all day, my mind was still wide awake.

"Just admiring my ridiculously beautiful wife," Jackson said sweetly, pressing a kiss just behind my ear. "My beautiful, sexy, pregnant wife…" he continued, placing a few more kisses near my jaw. I couldn't help but let out a content sigh. He knew all of my weak spots and that just happened to be one of them.

"Your super fat, super pregnant wife." I corrected him with a loud groan, pushing away the hand resting on my stomach.

"You are not fat," he disagreed without any moment of hesitation. "You are growing a beautiful, strong, healthy little baby. Our beautiful, strong, healthy baby. They just happen to take up a lot of space because they've got her daddy's big head and their mommy's big brain." He ran his hand back up my thigh and onto my stomach.

Almost on cue, the baby housed inside of my kicks right into Jackson's hand. I know that he can't feel it from the outside from his own response to it, rubbing a little more firmly against my pale skin and trying to spur another bout of movement from our baby. After Samuel, every chance that he got to feel this baby kick was amazing. He always had his hands on me these days, and it wasn't always in the same sexual way that it had been before the pregnancy.

I knew that some women said that sex during pregnancy was some of the best, while others said that it was the absolute worse. Truthfully, I'd lost some of my interest. The first trimester I had been too worn down to even think about it. We'd done it here and there, him mostly putting in the effort. But the bigger that I got, the less secure I felt about it.

"You're just happy because my boobs are finally a decently large size," I grumbled.

"Are you expecting me to disagree?" Jackson retorted without missing a beat. Immediately, I rolled over just enough to slap his chest. "April, baby, I'm going to love your breasts no matter what size they are. Because they're yours." His hand slipped up, taking one inside of his hand and massaging it gently. Without a bra on, I'm sure he can feel my nipple harden instantly. I'm sensitive as ever there. I think that was something that he had already figured out, too.

"Nuh-uh," I disagreed and wrapped my hands around his wrist. "Nope. No sex. I just wanna cuddle you and nothing else." I let him know.

Respectfully, his hand drifted back down to the swell of my stomach and he pulled him back against me a little more firmly. He did place another sweet kiss on my neck, his nose nuzzling over the same spot moments later. I can feel the breath that he let out warming my skin.

"You know that you're the most beautiful woman in the world, right?" Jackson questioned affectionately, placing a few more kisses on my neck and shoulder. It's all too comfortable to be curled up in his arms when he's doing this to me.

I groaned loudly and gave a shake of my head to disagree.

"You are, April. I'm serious. Look at me."

Going with his words, I noisily turn over onto my other side so that I'm facing him. The large swell of my stomach rested between the two of us, pressed up against his considerably more firm front side. Even in the dark of the bedroom, he's still stunning. Sharp angles, eyes that still manage to pop out despite the darkness. I don't need my contacts in to see him for just how beautiful he is, though. And I know that he's trying to turn that conversation back around on me.

Of course, it's a lot easier to say and nod at than actually believe. I don't want to lie to him. I'd always had problems with my own image growing up, even if the weight had fortunately never been one thing on the list. So it was a little hard to have that be taken away from me. Sure, it's a good reason. I'm growing a healthy baby. Our healthy baby. But there are one or two voices in my head that just don't like to listen and recognize that fact for how important it is.

"I know that you're serious," I commented, taking one of his hands. "You tell me about the last time that you gained thirty pounds and were super happy about it." I challenged with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Never." He answered. "But I have also never been pregnant, in case you've forgotten."

"Maybe I should make you wear one of those pregnancy bellies and stuff like they do in the video. Show you how hard and annoying it can be. I'd definitely make you operate with one of those on." I suggested, a laugh slipping through my lips and unable to help the fact that I'm suddenly beaming up at him.

"Trust me, I do not doubt that it is hard." Jackson grinned at me, reaching up and booming my nose gently. "But you like a challenge, don't you? You're still the most competitive person that I've ever met."

I rolled my eyes. "Competitions have prizes." I pointed out.

"So does pregnancy," he said without hesitation. "In case you've forgotten what this whole deal is about, we are going to get a pretty awesome baby at the end of all of this." He reminded me with a raise of his eyebrows. I haven't forgotten, far from it. I was all too excited about the end of this pregnancy, about the fact that we were finally going to get to parent and raise a baby. That this one wouldn't end with a coffin so small that no person should have ever had to purchase one.

Thinking about Samuel only sends me spiraling in a direction and I drop my gaze away from his, chewing on my lower lip momentarily. My hand moved to my stomach, taking a deep breath and finding comfort in the movements of the baby inside of me. They were healthy. They moved. This wasn't a repeat of the past.

But even as I tried to reassure myself this was the present and not the past, Jackson can see it on my face.

"You're thinking of him," he said quietly, his hand coming up to cup my cheeks.

"It's hard not to," I admitted with a shrug of one shoulder. "I mean, I always thought about him every day but now that I'm pregnant… I guess it just brought everything back up again. That he should be here and excited to be a big brother. That we should be stressed about putting him in daycare and how he's going to adjust to having another baby in the house but instead… it's like we're first time parents. But saying that, labeling myself as a new mom… it doesn't feel right." I admitted, rambling on a little more than what I had intended in the first place.

"That's because we're not first-time parents. We've always been parents, since the day that you told me that you were pregnant, baby. And we're always going to be parents." Jackson soothed gently, shifting to press a kiss to my lips. "You've been an amazing mom for two years now. And you're going to be an amazing mom to this baby, too. I know that."

I smiled softly at him, bringing my gaze back up to his. "Do you know what they call a child after a lost baby?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, what?"

"A rainbow baby," I answered, taking a deep breath and then releasing it. "You know, you're supposed to conjure hope and appreciate the rainbow because of the storm that came before it." I elaborated.

"That makes sense," Jackson gave a small nod of his head. "I know that this isn't going to be easy but… I think that we're going to do this, and we're going to do it well. We've got this. And we probably will appreciate this baby even more because we know just how valuable they're going to be in our life. There's nothing wrong with that. I mean, you wouldn't think negatively of anyone else in our situation, right? So why do you do it about yourself?"

It's a fair question. I don't really know how to give him the answer, either. I'm always harder on myself than I am on other people. I put high expectations on my shoulders and I had to live up to them, for everyone else and for myself. I don't know how to stop myself.

"You need to be kinder to yourself," he reminded me. "I don't want anyone to be hard on the woman that I love, alright? And that includes you."

"That doesn't count," I shook my head.

"Oh, yes it most certainly does." He didn't miss a beat before disagreeing with me. "It absolutely counts. More than others, I think. You deserve to love yourself and see yourself in the same way that I do, baby. And that does not include being hard on yourself."

I fall quiet for a moment, chewing on my lower lip. Maybe it's the hormones that were making me a little more susceptible to the criticisms that I had for myself lately, and a little less willing to listen to him. But… maybe I didn't have to ruin this moment for us completely.

"Tell me more."

"Okay." Jackson agreed. "You are one of the most amazingly strong women that I've ever known, April. You've gone through one of the most horrific things that a person can go through, and on the other side of it… you're kind, beautiful, on the inside and the outside. You didn't let it turn you hard or bitter. Do you know how amazing it is that you are able to do that? The special type of kindness that you have… it's a rare commodity. I'm a better person because of the fact that I know you, April, and because I've had the rare chance to love you and to marry you. You've made me stronger. You've made me kinder. You're exceptional in every way possible. You know what's important in life, and you practice what you preach in every way possible."

Before I could help myself, there are tears in my eyes with the words that come flooding from his mouth. I sniffle and bring up my hand, wiping away the moisture that had formed under my eyes. I could curse hormones and blame them for it, but this time, it has nothing to do with the excess of them in my bloodstream.

He shifted down some so that his head was level with my stomach, and placing a kiss just above my belly button. "And I know that because of the amazing woman that you are, this baby, this one right here? They are going to have an amazing life because they have an amazing, incredibly strong mother. Just like the few minutes that Samuel had, he was so lucky, because he had you as his mom, baby. Because he had a mom who was willing to make the most difficult decision of her life to do the right thing for her child, no matter what it did to her."

The words break me down completely.

Tears slip from my eyelids and I cover my mouth with my hand to try and quiet the sob that spilled past my lips, but there's no point in even trying. Jackson slipped his arm around my frame and held me right up against him, belly squished a bit awkwardly between the two of us. I nuzzled my head beneath his chin, finding a home there as it rested on top of me. He's my home. He always has been.

"Thank you," I finally whisper after a few tearful moments, centering myself just enough that I'm able to find my voice once again. "Thank you. Thank you." All I can do is repeat the words, unable to find anything else in me.

"I love you so much, April," he reminded me as he soothed his hand up and down along my spine.

"I love you too," I echoed the sentiment without any hesitation, my heart completely full. I'd be so worried about all of this. That the two of us weren't going to make it after I went to Jordan the first time and the near ultimatum that he had delivered when I'd talked about not going the second time – but instead, I had stayed and we'd been able to figure it out together. Maybe the timetable between us sorting out where we had stood was accelerated somewhat when we found out that we were expecting another child together, but it didn't seem to make a difference. We were still figuring it out.

Jackson gave me another firm squeeze, pulling back just enough that he can press a sweet kiss against my forehead and then drop another one down on my lips, capturing my bottom one between both of his.

I returned the kiss eagerly, a little more needy than what I had been before. My hand came up to cup his face, feeling the scruff against his jaw, then running my hand over the back of his head. His curls were beginning to grow out again, enough that I can really touch them and scratch my nails through them, and I love it. He's sexier than he ever has been right now.

He said the same thing about me though, and looking at him right now, after everything that he had just said, I can begin to find it in myself to try and believe him. Or at least, I can start to try.

"You're going to be such a great dad, Jackson," I murmured affectionately. It's not something entirely brought on by the little speech that he had just given me, even if it was a momentary source of inspiration. It was something that I had known since Samuel. "You are. I had great parents, no matter what I might occasionally complain about the two of them. But you've already mastered one of the things that the two of them never could, no matter how amazing the two of them were." I complimented, a smile softening my cheeks.

"What's that?" He asked with a raise of his brows.

"You already know how to make a woman feel better about herself, without just making it all about her body," I answered him sincerely, taking one of his hands and interlacing our fingers together. I bring his hand up to my mouth and kiss each of his individual knuckles gently.

Jackson beamed down at me. "And how are you so sure that it's a baby girl, huh?"

I gave an easy shrug of my shoulders. "Mother's intuition."

He pulled my hand up to his own mouth and placed a few kisses against my knuckles to return the affection before beginning to kiss the pulse point on the inside of my wrist. I smile wide, teeth still digging into my lower lip. He really did have a magical way of knowing the exact right thing to say to me. His intuition was certainly just as good as mine, if not better.

"I'll be more than happy with a little girl if she's anything like you." Jackson complimented. "Now roll back over, baby. I'm gonna spoon you so good."

"You are so dorky." I grinned as the words leave my mouth but listen to what he's saying, taking the effort to roll back over to my left side. Supposedly, that was the better side to sleep on for the baby, so spooning and facing the direction had become the normal sleep position for the two of us since I had started to show. Of course, we rarely woke in the same position. I'd been a little more restless during the night, but it's impossible to not fall asleep feeling safe and loved when he curled up around me like this.

We fall quiet for a moment as Jackson adjusted to press up against my backside, and I feel him nuzzle his nose against the back of my neck and breathe in the scent of my shampoo. No kiss this time, but just as intimate all the same.

"I love you," I reminded him quietly as our bedroom fell quiet.

"I love you too, baby."


	4. Midnight Ramblings

**_JACKSON_**

It's late when I finally get home from work. The house is quiet and still.

Naturally, that can only mean one thing. My wife must have worked a real miracle and managed to get our baby girl down for the night on her own accord.

The adjustment hadn't been easy. After everything that April had gone through, we had to walk on eggshells for just a little bit. She hadn't wanted to hire help around the house or with her own condition. I'd been taking care of the both of them for the past few weeks until Arizona had cleared her for normal activity again.

She had been struggling, I could see that, even if she refused to admit it out loud. It made sense. After Samuel, having Harriet… even though it was a complete miracle, it was also a living reminder of the child that we had lost together, how it had nearly torn us apart as individuals and as a couple. I wondered what milestones he would have reached by now. If he would have had the same developmental pattern that she had displayed so far. I knew that she was having the same thoughts, even if it was difficult for the both of us to voice.

But she had managed to bond with the baby, despite all of the worries. April was an amazing mother. Kind and considerate, always thinking about the baby. I was sure that she had slowed down her own recovery process from straining herself to do everything that she could.

Making my way to the nursery quietly, I open the door slowly to make sure that it doesn't sleep. Harriet's soundly sleeping in her crib, laying on her back and swaddled up comfortably, and the white noise machine on in the background. I stand there and watch her for a moment, a smile widening my cheeks. In the rare moments that she's this peaceful, it's a wonderful sight.

There's the temptation to pick her up and hold her, kiss her goodnight. But I don't want to wake her up. Once she fell asleep, she was pretty good – but getting her down was hard.

Hesitating for a few moments longer, I pull the door shut again and take a few steps down the hallway toward our bedroom. April was stretched out on the bed, beneath the covers, and asleep. I move past her to quickly brush my teeth and change into a pair of pajama pants, exhausted. Transitioning back to work from paternity leave had been a challenge. A long shift and an equally long night with inconsistent wake-up calls from Harriet, regardless of whether it was me or April getting up to tend to the baby, didn't make for a calm or restful environment.

I'm grateful to see that I hadn't woken her up when I turn off the bathroom lights and step back into the bedroom. I can barely see her without the lights on, mostly just a shape in the bed.

Kneeling down on the bed gently to try and not disturb her, I stretch out slowly, letting out a sigh. My gaze turned to April, examining her for a moment. I can tell that she's tired. There are bags under her eyes. She hadn't been getting much more sleep than I had either. Staying at home with a baby wasn't easy, I knew that.

My eyes run over her frame for a moment, noticing where her shirt had ridden up from the adjusting that she had done. Low between her hips, the scar from her c-section was peeking out of her pajamas.

It's still pink. Nowhere near as bad as it had been at the beginning when she had needed wound therapy. It was unlikely that it would ever fade away completely, but the color around the room was improving, at least. I knew that she was insecure about it. She rarely let me see it, as her husband or as a plastic surgeon.

But I find it beautiful.

To me, it represented everything that she had been through. Everything that she had endured to ensure that our daughter would come into the world, to make sure that neither of us would go through the devastating tragedy that we had already been through once.

The thought of losing her was terrifying. I couldn't imagine a world without the love of my life. I didn't want to. She meant everything to me and I had built my life around her in one way or another. No matter the bumps in the road that we hit, I could get through them knowing that she would always be there on the other side, one way or another. I needed her in the same way that I needed oxygen. She was a requirement for me to keep going day after day. I couldn't live with the kind of fear that came from the thought of losing her again. I didn't know how to. I didn't want to know how to, either.

Even if it wasn't aesthetically pleasing by typical standards, the scar was one of the most powerful things about her. What it stood for was unlike anything that I could ever begin to imagine someone else going through.

A cesarean section was generally a hard recovery – in part, because of the combination of being gifted new life. But to go through one without anesthesia? To talk Warren into it?

I couldn't even begin to imagine the agony that she had been through, and I had heard the sounds of her screaming on the phone. I hadn't been able to get them out of my head, replaying them over and over in the minutes that it had taken for the ambulance to get from Meredith's house to the hospital, when she had been in surgery with Bailey and Robbins and I hadn't been able to know the outcome. There were still some nights when it came through in the form of nightmares.

It turned out that my greatest fear was losing her. I had never known until I heard her screaming like that, terrified and agonized. I had wanted to be there in the room during Harriet's birth but I knew now if I had been at Meredith's house, there was no way that I would have been strong enough to stand what had happened in her kitchen.

Even after how much pain we had both been through when it came to losing our son, I would have gone through the pain again, I would have selfishly caused her the pain again, as long as I got to keep her. We could make another baby. We had already proven that with Harriet. But there was no duplication April, she was one of a kind in every way possible.

April Kepner was, undoubtedly, the strongest woman that I knew.

She had been through Hell and back, danced with death, and yet she had come out on the other side more beautiful and compassionate than ever. I knew that everyone in the hospital had been through some challenging hardships, that it wasn't unique to her or the two of us, but no one had done it with half as much grace and empathy as she had. Never had she let the word harden or ruin the incredibly kind woman that she was. That was something that couldn't be said for anyone else that I knew. The way that she amazed me continued on a daily basis.

Very gently, as to not alarm her or wake her up, I reached out for her. At first, I placed my hand on her hip, feeling the warmth of the revealed skin. Then very gently, I brought my fingers to the pink skin of her scar. It felt like any scar would – a little tougher, yet more tender at the same time. I dragged the pads of my fingertips against the length of it gently, taking a deep breath.

"I love you," I murmured gently. She didn't have to hear it know, or at least, not right now. I'd told her time and time again. I wanted her to know. I needed her to know. Saying it over and over again would never be enough.

The redhead laying beside me stirred for a moment and I stilled, not wanting to wake her up. She rolled over and switched sides so that she was facing away for me.

Taking advantage of the new position, I shifted myself so that her back was pressed up against my front, finding comfort in her soft curves. She's still a little thicker than usual from giving birth only a few weeks ago, but I like the extra weight on her. She's a little curvier, a little plumper in the rear, and just as beautiful as always.

Something indistinguishable is muttered and keeps me from closing my eyes completely, eyebrows raising to see if she was about to wake up.

"You're home," April finally muttered, clearer than before.

"Yeah," I answered softly, pressing a kiss against the shell of her ear, and then another one of her shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up. Harriet's sleeping like a little angel." I commented.

"Because she is one," she hummed out, snuggling back against me.

"Reminds me a lot of someone else I know." I sighed out before breathing in her smell, happy to have her snuggled against me like this. I miss sex a little bit – but I wasn't going to push her until she was ready for everything.

I brushed my nose against the back of her neck softly, listening to the content noise that she made. "I love you," I added quietly, running my hand along her side for a moment before setting it gently in front of her stomach again, not wanting to draw too much attention to the motion. I used to do it all the time when she was pregnant. But now she didn't seem to enjoy that particular contact nearly as much. She's insecure about it and I want to help her with that, even if I'm not sure the best way to go about it.

"I love you too," she whispered back quietly.

"You're incredible," I murmured, letting my eyes fall shut. It would have been nice to stay up and talk to her after a long day, sure, but the exhaustion was wearing at the both of us.

"Are you trying to push my shirt up? You want me naked?" She muttered, pushing my hand away gently as she shifted and pulled her shirt back down to cover her upper half completely. "Taking advantage of me while I sleep..." her words trailed off with the light-hearted accusation.

I barely chuckled. "No, you just squirm so much when you sleep you may as well strip."

"You know I don't like that scar," she muttered.

"It's not ugly," I reminded her. "It's beautiful. It shows how much you've been through. Just think, whenever you go to one of those mommy and me classes and some fluffy, organic mom talks about the miracle of childbirth and how she did a natural birth, you can one-up her and say that you did an all natural c-section. See her try and top that." My words are gentle, trying to ease the edge of the conversation and not wanting to get into it too deep when we're both this tired. But I don't want her to think for a moment that I think any less of her appearance because of the scar.

They did earn a small chuckle out of April, fortunately. "I prefer to ignore the type," she sighed out quietly, squirming back against me once more. "I rather just stay home with you instead of going out. Going out is too much work."

"Mm," I hummed in agreement. "You're not wrong about that. Harriet hates the car seat we got."

"Maybe we should get a different one," she suggested sleepily. "One she might like better."

"April Kepner, suggesting something less than frugal? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?" I teased her, unable to resist the easy opportunity and placing another kiss just behind her earlobe.

"Shhh," she resisted. "I'm tired. Don't be mean."

"I'm not being mean," I chuckled. "Go to sleep, baby. We can talk in the morning."


	5. Magic Jackson

**_APRIL_**

I slammed shut the front door of the apartment, letting out a loud sigh and giving a shake of my head. It's noisy than intended but it's not late enough in the evening that I care about it.

Today had been the longest day and all I wanted to do was unwind with a glass of wine. It's only eight in the evening, but my day had unintentionally started at six when extra hands were needed in the emergency room after a sinkhole had absorbed two cars and their passengers. I'd dove into surgery first thing before breakfast or coffee and barely gotten to get my hands on the latter afterward with the insanity that had been in the emergency room all day.

Quarantine and decontamination, specifically, had been the absolute pain in my neck part of the day. All because of a wrongful jump to conclusions from one of the interns.

A man had come in complaining of extreme stomach pain and vomiting, vertigo, dizziness. What he had not revealed was that he had an excess of almond milk that morning. Enough that the smell of almond had Wilson jumping to that kind of conclusion, all because she'd apparently seen it on some crime show recently.

That, naturally, made me want to tear my hair out.

"Hey, babe." My husband's voice called out to me.

I don't respond to him, hanging up my keys on the hook by the door and dropping my bag. I make a beeline for the sofa and collapse down into it face first. Burying my face into one of the pillows, I let out an annoyed, grumbled shout of frustration.

"That bad, huh?" Jackson questioned. I could tell by the shift of the cushions beneath me that he had sat down in the space left between my thighs and the edge of the couch.

"I almost killed Wilson. I was this close to just strangling the life out of her." I shook my head.

His hand fell on my back, rubbing it gently. "Well, I'm glad you didn't. You know I love you but I don't know how far you would manage to make it in prison, babe."

I snorted, turning my head so I could watch him out of the corner of my eye and let out a loud sigh. I'm still irritated even if I knew that he was doing his best to try and get rid of my frustrations, but it was just one of those days that had gotten a good grip on me and taken a long, hard shake.

"We were so close to decontaminating everything and everyone before I caught it." I huffed out. "I don't mind almond milk, but I can't ever imagine drinking enough of it to make myself sick. And I can't believe that Wilson thought just because she saw it happen on television one time, that it was about to happen right here, in the E.R. Just because crazy crap happens here a lot doesn't mean we're some kind of telenovela." I rambled on, getting it out of my system.

"At least it didn't get that far, yeah?" Jackson suggested.

"Yeah," I breathed out, still feeling a little defeated. "I really was not looking forward to stripping down and showering in front of half our coworkers."

"I prefer keeping this cute little ass of yours between just the two of us." He commented with a smirk growing across his features, hand sliding down my back to the curve of my rear and giving the flesh a little squeeze.

I squirmed naturally at it, a bit playful, flipping back over so that I was laying on my back and facing him. "I'm still grumpy. Don't be so cute." I whined.

"I'll just have to cheer you up," Jackson said. Before I could counter, he leaned down and pushed up my shirt, blowing raspberries against my skin. I practically screamed with laughter, squirming and pushing his head away reflexively.

"No, no…" I barely breathed out. "No tickling."

He pressed another kiss on my stomach before pulling back. "That's okay, I've got another idea."

Jackson stepped away from me a moment and my curiosity is enough to get me to sit up and peer at what he's doing. He grabbed his phone and a Bluetooth speaker, setting it down on the kitchen counter. It makes a noise as they're connected, and he presumably scrolls through the music on his phone for a moment as he walked back over. He bent over, dragging the coffee table away from the sofa.

"What are you doing?" I finally asked, staring at him with furrowed brows.

"Cheering you up. Sit." He instructed.

I leaned back into the sofa without another word but my gaze doesn't leave him. When he finally settled on a song, _Pour Some Sugar On Me_ began to blast from the speakers. I let out a laugh, shaking my head. It's on my running playlist. I like having the occasional sexy song on there and he's clearly found that out for himself.

"I–" I tried to start.

"Shh." Jackson hushed me before I could even get started.

His hips began to sway in half-time with the beat and I can instantly feel myself begin to smile. We danced together on occasion, but it was never anything serious. It was pretty much always something goofy and quick, never with music.

But he seemed to be taking this a lot more seriously than any of the goofy movements the two of us had fallen into together. Even with the growing grin, there's still a furrow of my brows, trying to figure out what exactly he's got on his mind. He mouthed along the lyrics but didn't sing them out loud, only sparking my curiosity even further.

"What are you doing?" I finally blurted out, unable to hide the amusement from my expression.

"What part of _shh_ don't you understand?" Jackson retorted with a shake of his head.

Before I could try and get any more questions in, slowly and sensually, he began to pull his shirt off and over his head. I love my husband. I try not to think of him as a sex object because of said love for him. But to be honest, he's got the kind of washboard abs that could make any straight woman weak at their knees.

He's hot. He's really, really hot. And when he's moving around like that and running a hand over his pectorals and defined abdomen muscles, it's pretty much impossible to think about anything other than exactly how hot he is.

Even as my eyes checked him out and my thighs unintentionally pressed together, Jackson's beautiful eyes never left mine. His movements weren't crazy or overdone, just slow, sensual movements of his body, over enjoying his shiftlessness perhaps. He grinned at me, clearly confident in every movement of his body, as he damn well should have been.

Jackson put his hands on my knees and dragged my legs apart, fitting himself between them. With his jeans riding low on his hips, I'm eager for him to get rid of them.

He does a full body roll, low and deep, before running his hands along my thighs. I tried to lean forward toward him, but instead, his hands run up my legs and over the curves of my breasts, pushing me back into the couch with a cluck of his tongue.

"Is this what you think decontamination showers are supposed to be like?" I asked, nearly breathless.

I'm absolutely throbbing with desire by the time that he picked me up all too easily with one hand, arm like a seat beneath my ass. Jackson rolled his hips into me and I couldn't help but let out a low moan, chewing at the flesh of my lower lip. I don't want him to finish the dance – I'm too impatient for that. All I want is for him to throw me down and fuck me senseless until I'm incapable of thinking about all of the crap that had happened today.

Despite what I'm thinking about, he's apparently committed to his little striptease. His hips roll into mine and I let out a groan unintentionally. Jackson smirked at me, kissing me hard for a moment before setting me down in one of the living room chairs.

"You're ridiculous," I commented with a shake of my head, beaming.

"And you love it." Jackson countered without hesitation.

He's certainly not wrong about that.

His hand skims down the expanse of his abs until they reach the button of his jeans and he's ridiculously slow to undo it and drag down the zipper of his jeans. He's wearing tight black boxers beneath – I can tell exactly which pair. I'm just impressed he's not hard yet.

Hips move sensually from side to side and the jeans only slip even further down on his hips. When I reached forward to try and give them a gentle tug, he wraps one hand around both of mine, holding them above my head and leaning toward me. His hips thrust in my direction and all I can think about is how much better it would be for the both of us if he was inside of me.

Hands moved down the lines of his pelvis to where it disappeared into his jeans. Then he tucked his thumbs inside his waistband and slid them back and forth, pushing his jeans down, revealing more and more of his pelvis in front of my face.

Unable to resist, I reach out to try and pull him toward me.

"Nope," he scolded with a tap on my wrist. "Look, but don't touch."

I groaned. "That's so unfair."

"Those are the rules," he said, inching a hand down the front of his jeans before grabbing a fistful of himself. _Shit_. That was the only thing I was capable of thinking at the moment.

Jackson rolled his hips against as he squeezed himself, his own breath quickening as he grew hard. So much for that not lasting very long. I wiggled in the chair, barely managing to listen to the fact that he had now told me multiple times to just look and not touch. Well, he had said that about him. He didn't say that I couldn't touch myself.

Although my eyes never left his frame, I reached down for the button of my own jeans and quickly undo it, lifting up my hips to push down the thick material and the cotton panties beneath.

That, of course, got his attention.

"You only said I couldn't touch you," I reminded him, slipping my hand between my thighs.

It does get the reaction that I had been hoping to garner out of him. His jeans finally make it to being nothing more than a pile on the floor that he kicked aside, member straining against the tight material of his boxers. I begin to rub my middle finger through my wet folds.

The song had already changed on the speaker but I hadn't noticed until the chorus of _Bitch Better Have My Money_ had started to play. I was never giving him access to my workout playlist again.

His thumbs teased along the tight edge of his boxers, pulling it away and letting it snap back against his skin. Normally light eyes had darkened in his gaze and it made me smirk, knowing that this was beginning to have the same effect on him as it was on me. He was the one in the relationship who was clearly sexy, so getting to have the same effect on him was a little victory for me.

Jackson turned so his back was toward me, placing a hand on each arm of the chair and leaning back into me. He gave another full body roll, this one right up against me. It takes all my self-control to not reach out and touch him.

"Baby…" Even if I would listen enough to not whine, I wasn't going to shut up.

The skin of his ass is revealed when he teased down the back waistband of his boxers and I let out a little dog whistle, hearing him chuckle over the music in response.

He straightened back up to his full height before he finally pushed his boxers all the way down and let them pool around his ankles. His hips shook side to side again, still facing away from me so I can't see him entirely, but I watch with too much fascination at the way the muscles of his back move, fingers moving a little faster and finding my clit to satisfy myself. He's truly a beautiful example of the human form.

Finally, Jackson turned back around. This time when he bends, he barely stills in his dancing, lips sealing over mine in a firm kiss. I withdrew my hand from between my legs, and he snatched my wrist almost immediately. Breaking the kiss, he sucked my fingers into his mouth.

"What happened to no touching?" I questioned with a raise of my eyebrows.

He pulled back from my fingers with a popping noise. "Changed my mind." He wet his lips. "And you taste delicious."

Jackson wrapped his hands around my thighs again and when he lifted me up, this time he throws me over his shoulder as if I weigh nothing more than a sack of potatoes. His hand comes up, giving my rear a quick spank, and I squeal and squirm against him.

"You don't get to punish me! You're the one who broke the rules." I whined.

"Only this time," Jackson pointed out.

He makes quick work of carrying me back to the bedroom, but he doesn't throw me down in the way that he's expected. Instead, he settled so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling me down so that I'm laying across his lap with my ass exposed, pants and underwear caught around my knees. His erection poked me in the belly as I squirmed.

My thighs are slack, open. It's no challenge at all to slip his hand between them, seeking her out. His fingers make contact with slick skin, and I gasped out, hips rocking back for more.

Jackson braces her thighs apart with one arm, his other hand going back to work between my thighs. Even I could smell myself. I let out a sharp moan when a finger slipped inside of me but I'm soaking, and his fingertips slip and slide easily, but he doesn't rush it. That wouldn't suit his final goal at all. He'd been teasing me practically since the moment that I got home and I'm not surprised that he's about to continue with it. I tried to muffle my moans in the duvet of our bed as he lightly traces the edge of each fold.

The more that he teased me, the more frantic my movements became as I tried to rock back against his fingers and get more friction. But he keeps his touch light and teasing, enough to keep me begging but not enough to push me toward any kind of release.

"Baby, please…" I whined, unsure how much more I could take.

When he doesn't say a word or give me what I want, I squirm more than before, at least trying to get my pants down to my ankles so I have a little more autonomy over the movements of my body. But what I'm trying to do and what I accomplish end up being far from the same thing. I jarred myself a little too far and nearly fall off his lap, his arm catching my legs and my face inches from the floor.

We both burst out laughing, loudly.

Jackson doesn't let the humor distract for too long, though. He takes advantage of the uncanny position and pulled my pants and underwear off, tossing them aside, lifting me up and putting me back on the bed.

He doesn't wait any longer to give me what I want, with a powerful thrust, filling me up entirely. No matter how many times we're together, it's hard to get past his size. But we're both wound up from the teases of his dance and everything else.

I'm still half dressed, I realized, only when he hands underneath my blouse, and up my belly to the curve of my breasts. My nipples are hard as carven wood, poking against the lace of the blue bra that I have on, and his hands burrow under the fabric, plucking and squeezing and teasing. I cry out with pleasure from the stimulation, arching my back into his touch. My nails raked down the muscles of his back, gripping onto them and feeling them flex with each powerful movement and roll of his hips inside of me.

Turned out his hips really were multitalented.

The way that he was gripping onto me and thrusting inside of me was harder than the usual pace of our lovemaking. Sure, we've experimented here and there with kinkier and rougher sex, but it doesn't normally come out of the blue like this. Then again, neither did his striptease.

"I'm not stopping till you come all over me," he snarled in my ear, thrusting hard and fast. I moan even louder at his announcement, hips pushing aggressively back against him.

There's something undeniably sexy about having him be so possessive and animalistic with me. Sure, almost everything that he did was sexy, but this was Jackson taking it to a new level. A level that definitely resounded well with me. It seemed like he had barely done anything to me and yet I was throbbing, feeling the beginning of a release curling in the pit of my stomach. His striptease had gotten me riled up, as endearing as it had been, it had been far too sexy.

"I'm so close," I moaned lewdly.

One of the hands massaging my breast slipped down my body and quickly found my clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub. It's exactly what I need to be pushed over the edge completely and loudly.

When I finally explode over the edge and stars dance across my vision, crying out his name and clinging onto him harder than I had before. My orgasm coaxed him over the edge and I feel him pulse inside of me as he finished. A few more lazy rolls of his hips are given to allow the both of us to ride out the remainder of the orgasm.

After a few long moments, Jackson pulled out and rolled to collapse onto the bed next to me. One hand remains on me, his fingers finding mine and intertwining together naturally.

"How are you feeling about your day now, babe?" Jackson asked, looking at me with a smirk.

"You're so full of yourself," I breathed out with a huff of laughter.

"Yeah, but you like being full of me even better." He grinned, bringing up both of our hands and placing a few kisses on the back of my knuckles and the pulse point on my wrist.

I rolled my eyes but curled up against him anyway, wrapping both of my arms around one of his muscular ones. The one that I don't have trapped between my own looped over my hips and snuggled me up against him either further. I let out a content sigh, smiling to myself.

"Thank you," I finally murmured.

"For what?" Jackson asked.

"Being such an amazing husband."


	6. Waffle Sunday

**_JACKSON_**

"Are you almost ready to go, babe?" I called down the hallway.

"Just a minute!" April's voice chirped back.

Adjusting the watch on my wrist, I glanced down at the time. It's about time for us to get going if we don't want to have to walk for too long from the parking lot to the church. It's not a far drive to the church, but the parking lot was always a nightmare for the later service, a combination of people leaving from the prior one and others trying to squeeze in at the last minute and get in a good word with the man upstairs. That didn't matter much to me, really. I just wanted to be with my family.

Another minute ticked by on my watch and I let out a slight sigh before heading down the hallway to see what the hold up was. I knew that she was already dressed and working on Harriet. I'd gotten her fed, but April always insisted on dressing her for church. I didn't get in the way of that.

"Hey, you sure you don't need another hand?" I questioned as I peeked my head into Harriet's nursery, not wanting to push too much but not wanting to have to be late, either.

"I've got it!" April insisted. Harriet was kicking her feet around as my wife tried to get her little Mary Jane's on. She gets it clasped after a moment, fixing her sock. "See? Totally under control. I wonder if these are starting to get a little small and maybe she doesn't like them anymore." She explained while poking at her covered toes, no doubt checking for herself.

I looked over my daughter to see what she'd been dressed up in today, a dress with a white top and frilly sleeves, the bottom half an appearance of a jean skirt. It's a cute outfit that I haven't seen before – she must have bought it recently.

"Uh huh." I hummed. "Well, if we don't leave now, we're going to be late." I reminded her.

"We're ready, aren't we ladybug?" April scooped up our daughter with a quick kiss on her forehead, carrying her on her hip. She moved past me out of Harriet's room and to the front door proving her point, where I get the door for them both.

Once they were both out the door, I locked the door and got in the car, waiting on April to get Harriet tucked away securely inside of her car seat. Turning on the engine, I backed out of the driveway and began the familiar drive to church.

Even if I still don't believe in the whole God and Bible concept, I believe in April and she believed in all of it wholeheartedly, so I would support that decision. I'd go even if I would tune out most of what the preacher had to say, and I'd remain seated whenever they did the wine and bread thing. I'd encourage Harriet to keep an open mind to both sides of the spectrum, but I wouldn't intrude on her if she wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps and become a woman of God. It was her right to be one just as much as it was her right to not be one.

The parking lot isn't terribly crowded when we get there, but I still drop off April and Harriet by the front doors and go around to park. I knew she liked getting a good seat near the front and didn't mind being quite so close, even if it made it a little more awkward to scroll through my phone during the service.

Spotting the vibrant curls of her red hair never takes long once I'm inside. I keep my hands tucked into my pockets and head down, always keeping to myself. Even if everyone here is pretty nice, I'm pretty sure none of them are quite as accepting of my choices as April is.

"Right on time," April greeted me as I sat down next to her, arm slung over her shoulders with Harriet sat between us.

"Just for you." I placed a quick kiss on her temple before falling quiet for the service to begin.

As the preacher began to speak, I find myself tuning out of the testimony occurring on the stage. It's one of the few situations in life where I feel more like a bored teenager than the man I had grown into. I don't need the application of Bible verses to get the same life lessons from what he was going on – to me, really, it cheapened the whole thing. But that's one thought better left to myself than getting into a fight with April. It wouldn't have done anything other than hurt the both of us. That's not something I'm interested in doing.

An hour came and went by with me tuning out the sound of what was being praised. I keep up appearances enough to shake hands with neighbors and stand when the others do, out of respect, even if I don't participate in it otherwise.

"You ready?" I questioned as people around us began to get up and leave.

"Mmhm." She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss on my lips before scooping up Harriet and holding her on her hip as she stood up. Our little one was walking, but when it's this crowded and there's a parking lot to get through, better safe than sorry. It also happened to be quite a bit quicker.

"We getting waffles?" I ask the question as if I don't already know that the answer is yes. We have the same routine every Sunday, waking up at a timely hour to get ready for church, attend, and then, have waffles and brunch after. It was something that we'd first talked about when she was pregnant with Samuel, seemingly a lifetime ago, and we had chosen to reincorporate it into our life after Harriet was born.

"Yup," her hand gave mine a small squeeze as we continued walking.

It doesn't take too long to get to our car because I had gotten a decent parking spot earlier, and I help her get Harriet sorted in her car seat before we take off toward our usual brunch spot.

We go to pretty much the same place every week after church unless it was exceptionally crowded. It's a little local place that we both love, as did many others, given that there is usually a bit of a crowd after any given church service of people coming in for brunch. If there's a wait, though, it's pretty much always worth it.

This particular morning, fortunately, there isn't one.

I hold the door open so that they can walk in before me, April holding onto one of Harriet's hands as she walked herself in. She waited to scoop her up in her arms again when the hostess got us seated at a table by the window, getting her in the high chair.

Once all of us were settled in, the waitress came over and took our order for drinks. It's a little bit noisy but not too over the top, convenient enough that it keeps Harriet's occasionally inappropriate noise level from being easily noticed.

"So, what did you think about the service?" I ask for her sake more than my own.

"I liked it," April beamed at me, clearly pleased that I was asking. "I liked what he said about believing when it's not convenient. I think that's important and it's something that my parents always taught me, but I don't think people talk about it enough. It's easy to believe when there's a miracle right in front of you, but it's hard when there's nothing." She rambled on excitedly.

"Yeah, I get that." The concept of it, at least. "You've always been good at believing no matter what else is going on." How she'd managed to find God on the day that our son had been born and subsequently died, I'd never understood. I was still unable to find peace with any of that.

"Now I'm cheating just a little bit, though." She reached over toward Harriet as she spoke, fixing one of the clips in her hair that had come lose in the past hour.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I have my little miracle right here." Her words made me smile. Everything about Harriet, from her timing to the fact that April had been able to survive such a brutal c-section without any major deficits, was hard to explain scientifically. I knew that miracles happened, one way or another, regardless of putting the explanation on a higher power or the mere fact that science didn't have a complete understanding of the world. "Makes everything just that much easier."

"Yeah, she definitely does that." I couldn't help but reach over toward our daughter myself, smiling when Harriet wrapped one of her tiny hand around my finger and pulled at it.

"Were you listening to the sermon?" April returned the question to me, and I'm not surprised.

"A little," I shrugged as I gave an honest answer. I couldn't tune it out completely even if I didn't absorb most of it. "I was mostly just people watching, though." Something to do that wasn't at least giving the appearance of complete disrespect while everything that was going on.

"See anything interesting?" The smile on her lips was light and friendly, not offended by my lack of interest.

"Today was pretty mild," I admitted. "Some kid was pretty into the Angry Birds app that he was playing on his phone. The mom kept trying to get him to put away but he ignored her every time."

April made a face, her nose scrunching up adorably. "I never want our kids to be like that. Not even just because it's church – but addicted to technology and disrespecting their parents like that, especially in public. I don't want to spoil her with all that kind of stuff. She should love playing outside and make pretend, not silly video games." She spoke emphatically.

"I agree." I nodded. Even if I had been a bit spoiled growing up, it'd been a different generation then. Not one that was riddled with technology everywhere. "Hanging out with my friends are some of my best childhood memories. I don't want her's to be staring at a screen."

"Good," she smiled. "I'm glad we're on the same page."

Before that particular conversation could go any further, the waitress returned with our drinks and took our orders. We both ordered waffles, hers with a fruit cup as a side and mine comes with bacon. I know that waffles aren't her favorite breakfast food – she preferred pancakes but on any other occasion when we went out to brunch, usually got an omelet or something else egg based. But Waffle Sunday had been the tradition that we'd said we would have after church, and she had gone along with it seamlessly. Plus, Harriet would end up eating off both our plates, and she loved waffles. Definitely my little girl.

We continue to make idle conversation about plans for the rest of the day, a little bit of grocery shopping and the likes, moving forward from the church service a bit to my own relief. I like to ask only for her, so she can express her thoughts and be somewhat more involved even if I don't believe in it. I think it was something that she appreciated.

Our food is brought out in a timely manner and we don't hesitate to get the waffles covered in syrup and dig in, both of us alternating in getting Harriet fed as usual.

"I know we need to run to the grocery store today, but do you think that we can swing by the mall this afternoon, too? I want to get her feet measured and see if these shoes are getting too small for her. She might need to go up half a size." April asked, though she certainly needn't my permission for it. It's conversational more than anything else.

"Sure," I nodded. "Do you want me to go with you, or is this a girl's only adventure?" I asked, a smile breaking across my face once more.

"I suppose you can come," she laughed before taking another bite.

I reached over to Harriet, feeding her one of April's strawberries. "I think she could use a new pair of Nike's. Maybe we could get a matching pair for all three of us, instead of just Hattie and Daddy. How do you feel about that, pumpkin?" My voice was soft and a little high like I was just talking to Harriet, even though the question is just as much for April.

"Of course you want new Nike's." Even though her eyes rolled, when they settled on me again, there's nothing but absolute fondness to be found in her gaze. "Only if we can find a pair that I like. Some of those shoes are not attractive and people just buy them for the brand alone." She concluded.

I scoffed in fake offense. "First of all, I would never. Also, that's overall incorrect."

"If that's what you need to think, darling." April grinned teasingly with her words, clearing off another piece of her waffle from her work.

"Maybe your wardrobe is the one that we need to work on," I teased her.

"Uh-huh. Sure. If you had your way, it'd be… leggings and bralettes anywhere and everywhere." Man, my wife definitely does know me well.

"Is there something wrong with that?" I posed with a raise of my eyebrows.

April laughed again. "I guess that depends on how uncomfortable you are with other people staring at your wife." She shrugged, a knowing smirk pulled across her lips, just a little shiny with syrup.

"You know that? You're right. It's going to have to be sweats for days. You're too hot and we can't let anyone else know that." I beamed as I responded to her.

"I think I'll just stick to what I've already got." She was still beaming at me, rivaling the sun.

"Guess I won't argue with that." I softened, gaze dropping below her face for a moment. "I didn't get a chance to tell you in the rush this morning, but you look beautiful today, April." She was wearing a soft pink dress, simple and classy. I wouldn't have thought anything of it on a hanger, but on her, it was perfect.

"Thank you, Jackson." April smiled at me.

We finished up our meal and made sure that Harriet had gotten enough to eat before requesting the check and paying for everything, as always leaving a generous tip for the waitress. Even though we've got a few more things that we want to get done for the day, we drive home so that we can at least change into some more casual clothes. Harriet would stay in her little outfit, though. She looked too adorable to mess with it.

Harriet gets put down for a brief nap before we get anything else done, not wanting to risk her getting too grumpy or fussy when we have to go out with her. She's pretty good about being in public, but a sleepy toddler was still a sleepy toddler.

"Thanks for going to church with me today, Jackson," April snuggled up against me with her arms around my waist, her chin on my chest as she looked up at me. "You know how much I appreciate it."

"I do," I dropped down my chin, kissing her softly on the lips. "Just like I appreciate my waffles and my family."


	7. Break & Mend

_**APRIL**_

"Honey, make sure that you're careful on the slide, please!" I called out to my daughter, an affectionate smile placed on my lips as I watched Harriet run out to the playground.

Jackson's arm looped around my shoulders and I leaned into him, my head finding his shoulder and resting on top of it. It was a beautiful summer day, one of the few days that was truly sunny in Seattle. Harriet had begged to go to the park – not for long, of course, given how eager the both of us were to give into the request. I was glad that she was a child who still wanted to spend time outside, not entirely sucked into screens and tablets. There had also been a promise of getting some frozen yogurt afterward, entirely my husband's doing.

"You packed the sunscreen, right?" I asked, turning toward Jackson.

"Yup," he confirmed with a nod of his head. "But she already put it on at home. She'll be fine, April, it's the park, not a swimming pool." He nudged me playfully with his hip.

"It doesn't hurt to be too careful," I scrunched up my nose at him with a slight shake of my head.

"Well, that might be debatable," Jackson chuckled. "Come on, let's go sit down."

His hand fell from around my shoulder only to take my hand and lead me over to one of the empty benches around the edges of the playground. Harriet had already seemed to make friends with one of the other little girls on the climbing dome.

Sitting down on one of the empty benches, I pulled out the book I had brought with me, noting that Jackson pulled out his phone and open his email. I was rereading one of my favorite books, _Tuesdays with Morrie_. I was trying to do a little more reading lately so that I could set a good precedent for Harriet and make sure that she knew it was something both of her parents loved. So far, she was still a little spoiled with me reading to her.

Flipping pages, I released the breath that I was holding onto and leaned into my husband a little more. His arm wrapped right around me again, bringing me in a little closer. I loved simple moments like this with my family. I often worried we didn't get enough of it because of how busy our jobs often kept us.

"Are you keeping an eye on her?" I murmured, adjusting my sunglasses.

"Yep," Jackson answered with a simple nod. "She's moved on from the climbing and now she's on the monkey bars with some boy." He added.

"Try not to go into crazy protective dad moment." I teased lightly.

"Working on it," he chuckled.

Crossing my legs and readjusting myself once more, I made myself comfortable. Harriet was capable of keeping herself entertained for a while whenever she was outside and she was quite a social butterfly. I knew that bit of her had come fro her father and not from me, but I was grateful that she happened to receive that particular trait from him.

A nice breeze blew through the park, carrying the sounds of children's laughter. It was a crowded day at the park compared to most, everyone had wanted to get out while the weather was being so wonderfully pleasant.

What drew my attention was a loud, high-pitched scream. Kids screamed when they were having fun just as much, if not more, than when they weren't. It was a normal part of having to be outside with so many, distinguishing the good ones from the bad ones. But this one was easy to tell was something more than the typical play fighting – this one was a loud, pained cry, something that I was much more used to hearing inside of the emergency room than on a date outside with my family.

The most concerning part was that I immediately recognized it was Harriet screaming.

Both Jackson and I jerked up immediately, dropping my book onto the bench. She was still over by the monkey bars where he had said she was earlier, but instead of swinging around on them, this time she was on the ground beneath them, laying on her back and holding her left arm against her chest. We ran over to her as quickly as we could, falling down onto my knees next to her.

"Baby, baby," I soothed, putting my hand on her shoulder and trying to give it a small squeeze to ground her. "Baby, what happened? Did you fall off the monkey bars and hurt your arm?"

"Yes," Harriet sobbed out, her eyes red and already puffy. "My arm hurts Mommy!"

"It's okay baby, it's okay." One of the tricks of parenting was supposed to be remaining calm when kids got hurt, so they didn't freak out just because you were freaking out. I knew that. I could do it as a doctor. But with my own baby girl? That was so much harder.

"Let Daddy take a look at it, baby, okay?" Jackson prompted her, taking a hold of one of her little arms. "I'm going to be really careful, I promise. Super duper careful."

The lower portion of her arm was swollen from where she had hit the ground, and it was clear that the pain she was going through was rough. She was always a trooper about most things – she didn't complain about trying most new foods, so long as they weren't green, she loved to explore and adventure. She fell down plenty of times, usually onto her knees, and always got right back up again.

"Did you hear a cracking noise when you fell?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah. It hurts." Harriet nodded her head and sniffled loudly as she leaned back into me. I held my arms around her waist tightly, hugging her against my chest, unable to find my voice as I tried to contain the panic inside of me. I rested my head on top of hers, pouting at my husband.

"Well, I think we should go pay aunt Callie a visit at work, what do you think? She'll make it all better, I promise." He leaned forward, kissing her on top of the head and shooting me a look.

"Will she make it stop hurting?" Harriet asked.

"Yes, ladybug. She'll make it all better." Jackson promised her. "Your arm is broken and she's the very best at fixing it. You'll get a cool little cat and she'll let you pick our whatever color that you want."

A broken arm. For any kid, that was normal. There was nothing remotely abnormal about it. Most kids probably went through it at some point or another. But it was too sensitive of a point for me to not freeze up about it. My kid had a broken arm. Samuel had broken bones when he had been just trying to grow inside of my room. And now to see my little girl crying out in pain… knowing that that was what he had been through while inside of me, without any comfort? I could feel my heart breaking inside of me.

"Do you promise?" Harriet asked her dad.

"Yes, I promise. Let's get you to the car, okay?" Jackson's gaze moved up to me.

I took a deep breath, sniffling myself before standing up, continuing to hold onto Harriet. She's a bit big for me to be doing it now, but not too heavy for me to carry, especially when she had tears streaming down her face like this.

We got to the car as quickly as possible, and I strap her into the car seat, being extremely careful of her arm. I joined her sitting in the backseat, wanting to hold her other hand.

"Mommy, I wish that you could fix it." Harriet sniffled, looking right at me.

"I wish I could too." I kissed the top of her head.

"You'll be okay, ladybug, I promise. Daddy's right. Aunt Callie is the best at fixing broken bones." I tried to reassure her, offering a weak smile that I hoped she wasn't old enough to see through just yet.

"You know, Hattie, I had a few broken bones when I grew up. It hurt at first, but it was always cool to get the cast. Everyone wanted a chance to sign it. All of my friends thought it was really, really cool." Jackson glanced at both of us through the rearview mirror. He was doing a better job at keeping calm about all of this than I was.

Not every case of osteogenesis imperfecta looked the same. The characteristics of OI varied greatly from person to person, even within the same family from what I had read. Samuel had been type two, he had died within an hour of being born. But I knew that there were different types, that it wasn't just type two. Type one was common and mild, less collagen than normal. Bone fractures were common especially during the childhood years of recklessness. She didn't have other characteristics of it, she was strong and had healthy teeth, her spine was great. But my thoughts still spiral into thinking about whether or not I should get her genetically tested.

"When's it going to stop hurting, Mommy?" She was looking at me with her father's eyes, pouting.

"As soon as we get to see Aunt Callie. I promise. It's going to be all better." I answered.

"And you know what?" Jackson glanced back at the both of us, waiting until Harriet had looked forward at him. "Afterwards, I think that we can still go get ice cream. Ice cream is better than frozen yogurt. What do you think about that, Hattie? Do you think you deserve some ice cream after today?" He asked.

"Yes please," Harriet answered, her bottom lip still jutted out.

"We'll definitely get some ice cream, I promise." I leaned over to give her another kiss, unable to help the fact that I was definitely mirroring the pout that she was wearing at the moment. I hated to see her in pain.

The drive to the hospital certainly felt much longer than the ones the three of us always took on the weekdays, and yet that was without the obstacle of morning rush for traffic sharing the roads with us. I knew it was just because I was so worried about herm, regardless of how normal of an experience this might have been for a child. I didn't want it to be my child's experience. It should have been something else.

"Why don't you send a text to Callie to let her know we're just about there?" Jackson suggested.

I nodded my head, fishing my phone out and quickly sending the message.

When we finally made it to the hospital, I could feel at least some of the panic and stress begin to decrease. I got her out of the car seat as quickly as possible and carried her to the door, not wanting to let go of her for even a brief moment. Maybe hugging he wouldn't make much of a difference, but I could pretend it did.

"Let's get you fixed up, ladybug."

Callie greeted us downstairs with a bright smile and positive attitude, much to my relief. I was sure that it was for Harriet's benefit more than my own, yet I felt like I ended up being the one who was more receptive to the positivity that she had to offer. It was a quick elevator ride upstairs to get her into one of the patient rooms so that x-rays and everything else could be done properly, even if she was getting a little extra attention. It was a small break, just a hairline fracture, not something that needed the expertise of a world-renowned orthopedic surgeon. Yet Callie was happy to do it, I already knew that. We were all family, one way or another.

Very predictably, Harriet picked out the brightest pink cast available. Jackson and I both knew that was going to happen. She'd liked purple when she was younger, but now she was all about pink.

"How does your arm feel now, honey?" I asked, smoothing over her curly hair with my hand from where I'd ruffled it up a bit by accident earlier. "Does it feel all better?"

"Yes, Mommy." Even with her answer, she snuggled up against me.

"Who's the best?" Callie asked, holding up her hand for a high-five.

"Callie's the best!" Harriet answered enthusiastically, using her uninjured arm to reach up and high-five her. It earned a good laugh out of both me and Jackson, one that was much needed at the moment.

"Yes, yes she is." Jackson agreed, standing up and giving a one-armed hug to Callie. She returned it and I smiled up at her in thanks. "Thanks, Callie. We owe you one big time."

Callie laughed. "Well, hopefully, I'm not going to need either of your services any time soon."

"Mommy, Daddy, can we go get ice cream now?" Harriet asked, looking up at both of us.

"Of course we can, sweetheart." I laughed, giving a nod of her head. I helped her get down from the table that she was sitting on, holding her hand so that she wouldn't run off ahead of the two of us too far. The last thing that I wanted was her falling down twice in one day. "Let's go get you some ice cream. You can even get some extra sprinkles, if that's what you want, baby." So I was definitely being a softie.

"Yes please!" She shouted.

A smile finally softened across my lips as the three of us headed back out to the car together, our daughter in much better spirits than she had been heading into the hospital. I was glad that she wasn't in pain even if it was still going to take a few hours for some of the shock and worry about the entire situation to wear off.

Chocolate ice cream was the thing to solidify the smile on Harriett's face. She showed off her cast loudly and proudly to the clerk working at the shop who agreed that it was cool – something that she seemed to like quite a lot.

"Will you sign my cast?" Harriet asked when we were home and all the ice cream was eaten.

"Mmhm. Let me grab a Sharpie." I went over to the desk drawer with a plethora of pens. "How about next time you go to daycare, we take some colorful Sharpies and you can get all of your friends to sign it too?" I suggested. "Even Jane can sign it the next time that she watches you. I bet Grandma Catherine will, too, if you want." She loved her babysitter, Jane. I knew she loved Catherine, too. She seemed to pretty excited about the colorful cast now that it didn't hurt anymore.

"I wanna do that." She agreed. I sat down next to her at the kitchen table and wrote a little note to remind her just how much I loved her and signed Mom, knowing that Jackson would probably do the same later.

By the time the end of the day came around, Harriet was in much better spirits about the cast on her arm. I wasn't sure how long it was going to last given that it was likely to become a bit inconvenient in the coming weeks as some of the novelty wore off, but for now, things seemed to be okay.

I collapsed into bed with Jackson, my hair still damp from the shower, and let out a loud sigh. Even if Harriet was in higher spirits and asleep by now, I was still a little frazzled.

"You know she's alright, don't you?" Jackson asked as he set down his phone, rolling on his side and propping up his head so that he was facing me directly.

"Yeah," I mumbled quietly, laying on my back and folding my hands over my stomach.

"You kind of seemed to zone out earlier today, between her getting hurt and getting to the hospital," he remarked. I could feel his gaze on me even without having to glance over to confirm. His hand moved to rest on my forearm. "Is everything alright?" He questioned gently, his thumb rubbing little circles on my skin.

I released a breath. "Yeah. It just made me think of Samuel, that's all. Broken bones." I admitted.

"She's a strong girl, April. You know her. She almost always falls and gets right back up before either of us have a chance to even ask if she's okay. She's strong just like you are." He comforted me, scooting a little closer to me.

"She is," I agreed, rolling over to lean into him. "I love you, Jackson."

"I love you too, April."


	8. Salt & Pepper

**_JACKSON_**

If April knew that I was here, I was pretty sure that she would kill me.

She had always been clear how she felt about motorcycles. They were death traps. I doubted she could count just how many people she had come into the emergency room in terrible condition or simply DOA after an accident on a motorcycle, with or without a helmet. Even if a helmet could help here and there for certain injuries, there was only so much that could really be prevented when it came to a car versus a motorcycle.

And yet, here I was at a dealership, checking out some of the different ones that they had. I hadn't ridden on one since I was a teenager – it had been a friend's, I had been rebelling against my mother, and that was all there was to it. It hadn't been out of genuine interest.

Even though I wasn't that young of a father, I had been thirty-five when Harriet was born, someone my little girl had been the one to really make me feel like an old man. I had begun to let some of my beard grow out again for the winter, knowing that it was the only time of the year that my wife might let me get away with it without too much harassment. Harriet was talking up a storm these days, always throwing in her input whenever she had the chance. And, well, when she probably should not have. It's cute when it's her, at least. If anyone else in the world had made the comment, there would have been significantly more annoyance.

 _"Daddy's beard go white!"_

The shout had earned nearly hysterical laughter from April. There was no denying that there had been some salt and pepper appearing in my beard and on top of my head. It happened to be more noticeable on my face than it was on the hair on my head – at least to her, given that she didn't exactly have the chance to see the top of my head.

So my little girl might have been the cause of a little mid-life crisis on my end. Everyone went through them at some point or another. Men bought sports cars, cheated on their lives, starting acting like a teenager again, or some other cliché. I could have gone for something much worse, that much was clear, even if perhaps this was acting like a teenager just a little bit. Hopefully, April wouldn't point that out, though. That might have been a stretch of optimism.

Her voice going back and forth in my head was the only thing to keep me from making an impulse purchase. Maybe now was also the time that I should have paused and taken a little more consideration before making any big purchases with the family money more or less gone or in Harriet's name. There was no way I would tap into her stuff, after all. I could still afford it – April and I brought home more than enough money for that on both of our salaries, of course, and I'd made some reasonable decisions with selling the boat and ridiculous car I had bought. Hell, those purchases were probably more descriptive of a mid-life crisis than this one would be.

That didn't stop the thoughts as I drove home, though, they continued to swirl around in my head. I needed something to feel young again. I didn't want to turn into a boring dad, wearing khakis and thinking about the best way to clean out the gutters on the house.

When I got home, Harriet was sitting in her playpen in the living room banging around with one of her toys, and April was in the kitchen cooking dinner.

"Hey," I greeted her with a smile, setting down my keys and wallet on the counter. "Smells good."

"Thanks," April smiled, meeting me for a quick kiss as I walked over.

"What are you making?" I asked.

"Chicken stir-fry," she answered, moving back over to the stove so that she could stir the chicken and vegetables cooking inside of the pan. I stared at her for a moment, lips pressed together in a tight line.

"Alright. I'm gonna be in my office." My announcement was a little more sudden than what I intended, turning on my heel sharply and heading back to it.

Being short with her wasn't my intention – but I was still feeling a little sour. Maybe I was getting old. I certainly looked like I was getting old. I wasn't as fit as I had once been in my younger years, I'd thickened just about everywhere. April had never complained about it. She'd made comments about her own weight once or twice after giving birth to our daughter, and I had hardly noticed it on her. In part, because of the lack of a relationship we had at a time, but even after Samuel's birth, I hadn't really noticed. But I definitely noticed it on myself.

Today's mail was on my desk and I grabbed it to sift through it for a moment. Most of it was just spam or advertisements, a few paper copies of the bills that I always paid online. We had both put together a spreadsheet to make sure that everyone was taken care of and paid on time.

I was definitely getting boring with my old age. That seemed like it was impossible to ignore. Bills and maintaining the house had taken over a lot of the things that we used to do. Maybe we had never had a lot of time after work, and that had certainly become even less since we had brought Harriet home with us, but this just felt like something different. I was getting older and I was looking older.

April's voice calling out broke my thoughts. "Dinner's ready!"

A sigh pushed through my nose and I shut my laptop, getting up from behind the desk to head back to the kitchen. I hadn't told April about where I had gone yet today. I had gone in for work initially. There hadn't been much to do for the patient other than clean debris and hope that time would make it a bit better. The extra time had been spent doing what I knew she wouldn't approve of. In hindsight, the sneaking around did make it sound a little worse.

Once all of us had our own plates of food set up and Harriet was settled in her high chair, I couldn't find it in myself to be talkative. It shouldn't have surprised me when she finally decided to call me out about it.

"What's wrong, Jackson? You've barely said a word since you got home." April asked.

"Nothing's wrong," I brushed off with a shake of my head, shoving a mouthful of food down my throat to quickly give an excuse for not talking. If there was food in my mouth, it was a little easier to excuse.

It was obvious from the expression on her face that she didn't believe a word coming out of her mouth. I couldn't be annoyed with that. She was always pretty in tune with reading the people around her and I was far from subtle whenever I was in a bad mood, even if I did try and hide it. She was difficult to lie to about anything.

Harriet was lively enough to keep her distracted for the duration of the meal, to my relief. I hadn't decided if I really wanted to tell her. It was something that should have been easy enough to get over. It was just a little gray hair, theoretically.

The majority of the noise and chatter made throughout the meal was courtesy of Harriet. Neither of us really minded. We both encouraged her to talk as much as she could, and she was coming in just a little ahead of most girls her age, something that we were both proud of. There was a bit of a genetic component to intelligence, and it seemed like she had gotten the best both worlds coming from the two of us. We were both incredibly proud of her.

But there was only so much that I could do to try and put off the conversation. I returned to my office after the meal and she got Harriet ready for bed – giving her a bath and reading her a book once she was changed into her pajamas, tucking her in for the night. We no longer worried about her waking up in the middle of it. It had been awhile since that had happened.

It had also admittedly been awhile since I had avoided talking to her about what was going on inside of my head. She was always accepting about whatever it is was and made herself easy and available to talk to. The only wall between me and talking to her was myself. That was the way that it always seemed to go. It was both a good and bad thing, of course. The fault of the bad just happened to rest of my shoulders alone. But I know when it's time to pack it up and head to bed, even if I do put it off just a little longer by moving past her and jumping into the shower.

Drying off slowly, I took my time just for the sake of the clock ticking by. But eventually, I walked back out into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around my waist, going to the dresser to grab a pair of clean boxers.

"So I let you off the hook at dinner, but now are you going to tell me what's wrong?" April asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, grabbing the underwear and shutting the drawer before leaning back against it.

"Jackson, come on…" There was a soft whine in her voice. "What's going on?"

I sighed. "Do you want to know what I did today?"

"Of course I do," she answered quickly.

"I went and looked at motorcycles. I'm thinking about buying one, actually." I answered, delivering perhaps what would be just a little too much honesty for what I knew she would like.

"What? Why?" That was a soft line of questioning, all things considered.

"Because I wanted to. I'm interested in getting one." I replied.

That was the wrong answer, apparently.

"Jackson, you know what I think about those. I don't care if you wear a helmet or not, motorcycles are nothing more than expensive death traps. You're just guaranteeing that you're going to get hurt on that thing one way or another and there's no reason in the world that you could ever possibly need something like that." April rambled on emphatically, sitting up straighter in bed. "What in the world are you thinking?" She asked.

"I'm getting old, April." I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Harriet's noticed. I've noticed. The gray hair is just the start. I'm not ready to be old. I just want something a little younger, something to give me a kick back in that direction."

"Jackson, baby," she scooted closer to me. "You don't need a motorcycle to be young. And I'm getting older too. There's nothing wrong with that. The only person in this house who is getting older that I don't want to get older is Harriet, I promise you that much. I don't want you doing something dangerous just because of that, okay? You know how dangerous those things are. You've seen it yourself just how dangerous they are. I don't need you dying in a car accident and Harriet certainly does not need you dying in a car accident either. We both need you. You know that, don't you?" She pleaded.

Another sigh breathed through my nose and I squeezed her hand back in return. "I do know that," I admitted. "I just didn't expect her to be the one to point out my gray hairs, you know? You clearly thought that it was hilarious from the way that you reacted." I reminded her.

"Do you want to know what I really think about your gray hairs?" She asked.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"It's hot." April beamed. "Really, really hot, actually. It's like… having my own personal Joe Manganiello right here in the comfort of my home." She let go of my hand, rubbing up and down the length of my arm. "You look very sexy with some gray hair. Especially with your curls growing out more. I like it. I don't want to change a thing about it."

With my hand released from hers, I reached up to cup her face, running my thumb along the edge of her jaw as I stared into her hazel eyes. She was being honest. She was a terrible liar, the kind that you could catch before she could even open her mouth.

"Do you really think that?" Even knowing that, I still asked.

"Of course." She nodded firmly. "And I'm more than happy to prove it to you, too." She added.

My eyebrows raised up at her, a faint idea of where exactly she was going with it and already liking it. Confirming my thoughts, April leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. I firmed my grip on her, hand moving from her cheek to the nape of her neck so that I could pull her in closer to me.

Holding onto her firmly, the grip only tightened slightly to pull April over onto my lap. She had on a pair of silky pajama shorts and a matching blouse, nothing beneath given the visibility of her nipples appearing through the fabric, and the only thing on me was the towel. That would be easy to get rid of. The weight of her settled on my lap was perfect.

Her arms wrapped around me and her nails raked lightly down the skin of my back, just the way that I liked it. I deepened the kiss between us, tasting the sweetness and the fresh breath on the inside of her mouth. One hand remained wrapped around the base of her neck, but the other moved to her hip, slipping just beneath the silk fabric of her shirt. Taking a firm breast in hand and giving it an appreciative squeeze, I allowed my thumb to brush across her nipple and circle it till it hardened completely, swallowing the moan she released into my mouth.

"God, you're so beautiful." The words are muttered along her skin as our mouths separate, moving down to find the sweet spot on her neck and leave a mark there.

"And you are just as sexy as you've ever been, Jackson." Her hips rolled as she spoke.

Normally, foreplay is something that I don't mind indulging in. I like to tease her and drive her crazy, to hear her beg and say all of those dirty little things that no one else got to hear. There's not much more beautiful than when she's flustered and needy for me.

But this time, I don't want all of that. It might have been sex but it was about more than the physical aspect of it between the two of us. It was about her and me, our relationship, our love. I want to be inside of her and make love to her, to thank her for being who she was, to remind the both of us that at our core, we're just two halves of the same whole.

And I do.

Gripping onto her thighs and wrapping her legs around my waist, I stand up just for a moment to readjust. My towel dropped to the floor and I set her down on the bed so that I was hovering on top of her, quickly pulling off the silky top that she had on. I attack her breasts with my mouth, kissing and sucking, leaving marks that no one else would see except for the two of us. She's noisy, trying to muffle herself with the back of her hand and failing. I don't tease her for long.

The pajama shorts are quickly snagged off and pulled down so that she's completely bare. I pause for just a moment to admire how beautiful she was in the nude. All pale skin and soft curves, freckles scattered across it decorated and accented her perfectly. There was the scar from Harriet's c-section, but even that was so admirable, the strength that the little pink line conveyed. She was amazing. There was no other woman in the world I rather be with.

With a loud groan, I pushed inside of her. She clutched onto me once more and her leg hooked around my backside, allowing me to move deeper inside of her. She felt amazing as always, warm and tight heat engulfing me completely, allowing me to get lost in nothing more than the feel of being inside and on top of her, consuming her entirely.

"God, you feel so good…" I moaned out, burying my face into her neck so that I could continue to kiss along the pale skin there, making sure that freckles were not the only thing that covered her skin.

I hold onto her tight and keep a hand on her hip, eventually stretching out so that a finger could rub at her clit as I moved inside of her. It doesn't take long for her to cry out as an orgasm washed over her. I hold out and keep going, thrusting into her harder than before and continuing to rub at the sensitive nub. It's not until the second orgasm washed over April that I finally let go myself, spilling into her with a few more jerky thrusts. I rested on top of her, barely holding myself up.

"No old man I know could do all of that." April murmured affectionately. I lifted up my head from its place, meeting her lips in another firm kiss. This time, it was a thank you.

"I love you, April." I reminded her.

"I love you too, Jackson."


	9. The Ceremony

**_APRIL_**

"Are you sure that this isn't too much?"

I gave a half-spin in the mirror to examine the dress at every angle, chewing at the bottom of my lip. It was hard to decide whether or not it was the right one. A plethora of different dresses had been tried on in the past two hours with Arizona, and after so many, it was hard to remember which ones I had really liked and what looked better on a hanger than when I had actually put it on my body. This one was nice, though. The color complimented my skin tone and it was well-fitted, I just couldn't decide if it fit my personality. Arizona had been the one to pull it off the rack.

"I love it." The blonde beamed at me, clasping her hands together. "I think it's perfect and if you don't buy it, I'm going to buy it and make you wear it myself. Seriously, it's the perfect mix of classy and sexy."

"Really?" I questioned again, raising my brow as I turned to look at her.

"Really. If I was going to the Harper Avery's, then I would want to look as good as you do right now. And, it's going to be even better once you have your hair and makeup all done. Do you know how you're going to wear it yet?" Arizona asked eagerly, stepping forward and tucking my hair behind my ear.

I shook my head. "No, I was waiting until I got the dress to figure it out," I answered.

"Well, you're going to have to figure it out soon, because I want to know," she chuckled. "I wish I could come with you guys and help you get ready."

"I'm already a plus one. I don't think a plus one gets a plus one." I mused.

"No, you are the wife of an Avery. Which means technically you can do whatever you want."

I laughed loudly. "I wish. But I don't think that's the case."

"Well, either way, I'm excited for you. This is a long overdue thing for you. I know you wanted to go last year but Harriet was sick and one of you had to stay home, and there's a long list of excuses for why you haven't done yet." She gave me a pointed look as she spoke. Truthfully, I had always been a little nervous to go. It had been easy to come up with excuses.

"I'm excited," I smiled and gave a nod of my head. "I know Jackson always acts like he dreads having to go, but I am excited. It'll be a great opportunity to meet other surgeons and here about what they're working on." I turned around. "Will you unzip it?"

With her assistance, I get out of the dress and back into the jeans and blouse that I had come into the store wearing. Trying on dress after dress after dress had been more exhausting of a task than I had planned, but it seemed like Arizona was still full of energy despite that she had been assisting me with it for the past two hours. It was the first time that I was getting to go to the actual Harper Avery awards and ceremony. I wanted to make a good impression and, well, I wanted to blow Jackson away just a little bit. Since becoming parents, we hadn't gotten a lot of opportunities to get dressed up all nice and fancy and go out together.

"So you're going with this one, right?" Arizona asked once I had stepped out.

"Yep. I figure you're twisting my arm into now or later," I teased with a smile.

Purchasing the dress and trying not to cringe too hard at the price of the dress, I reminded myself how special and important this event was going to be. Arizona didn't seem phased by it – but I knew she, like most of my coworkers, weren't as frugal as I tended to be. I had no real reason to be anymore, Jackson and I both made plenty of money and he had more than I could even imagine reasonably using saved away in a bank account somewhere. Yet spending five hundred dollars on a dress still seemed ridiculous and unnecessary to me.

Parting ways with Arizona once everything had been completed, I headed back to the house. I had waited until the last minute to get my dress – well, technically, that wasn't true. I had gone out twice before and not been able to settle on anything. But I knew this would pair nicely with some nude heels and I could find jewelry that I already owned to match it.

The actual award ceremony was held in the middle of the week in Boston. We had each taken off Wednesday and Thursday to accommodate it, flying out Tuesday night and staying in the city for two nights as well. I had never actually been to Boston, and Jackson wanted to show me around to some of his childhood memories and other favorite spots in the city. There was so much of the world that I still hadn't seen yet, so even a simple trip to the other side of the country was more than enough excitement for me. Getting to go to the award ceremony just happened to be the icing on the cake.

"April, are you almost ready to go?" Jackson called out from downstairs.

"Yeah, just a minute!" I shut my suitcase and zipped it quickly, picking it up to lug it down the stairs. The dress was already in the car and everything else I needed was in the bag. "I'm ready. Are you sure it's okay to leave Harriet alone?"

"It's just two nights with Owen. We'll be home this time on Thursday." He reminded me, stepping forward to take my suitcase from me and load it into the back of the car. "The jet is waiting."

"Right, you're right," I murmured, getting into the car with him.

The Avery jet was something that we very rarely used. Part of it was because we didn't have a need for it, most of the time. Jackson didn't travel for the foundation a lot and we both liked to just stay at home with the kids. But stepping on board of it is an immediate luxury. Wide, comfortable chairs and champagne before we had even taken off. It was crazy to think that this was something that Jackson didn't have to bat an eyelash about paying for.

It's not a terribly long flight, yet by the time that we arrive, it's well past two in the morning because of the time zone changes. It doesn't feel nearly that late even if we were both just a bit groggy getting off the plane from being stuck on it so long.

We don't have to stay at a hotel. Instead, a car picked us up directly from the airport and drove us to one of the Avery family homes. The city was mostly asleep at this time, not still but managing to be quiet. It's hard to see anything but from first glance, it doesn't look drastically different from any other city that I've been in. The roads are just as confusing and a little on the narrow side, the sidewalks are a bit small, but otherwise, it seemed rather ordinary. But I had heard Jackson and Catherine talk about it, and I knew that it must have been magnificent during the day.

"So, this is where I grew up…" Jackson introduced as we pulled up to the house.

"Wow," I murmured, leaning closer to the window. "I can just imagine you running around with all your friends, making a ruckus, your mother stepping out to tell you to be quiet," I teased, wrapping my arm around his.

"I wasn't that much trouble," he chuckled. "At least, not when we were at my house."

"Come on, let's go in."

As the car pulled to a stop outside of the house, we got out. The driver took our luggage inside for us and Jackson thanked him and tipped him before giving me the grand tour. It was bigger than the house we had in Seattle, despite being empty, some of the furniture and decor a little outdated – but it was certainly beautiful and well-lit. It must have been a hit among socialites when Jackson had been young.

"This place is beautiful, Jackson…" I murmured, running my fingers along the banister as I followed him up the stairs. "I can't believe that I've never been here before, after all these years."

"I'm glad you're here now," he glanced back at me. "And I'm really glad I get to take you to my bedroom."

Following him up the stairs of the house, his bedroom was the right door on the left. It was much bigger than the bedroom that I had shared with Libby growing up, dark blue walls with white baseboards and a mahogany bed frame, a dark gray duvet and minimal pillows covering it. It seemed like he hadn't liked using decorative pillows any more as a child than he did now.

Given that it was late and there was going to be a long day tomorrow, more so for him than it was to me, we don't dilly dally too much. We get ready for bed and curled up around one another beneath the sheets. It's a full bed, not the usual king that we were used to, but it doesn't matter when we're this close to each other. It doesn't take long before I can hear the steady sound of his breathing and slight snoring just behind my neck. When we'd first been in bed together, it'd been a little bit annoying. But now, it's the sound that I fall asleep to most comfortably.

Morning comes quickly. Jackson had a few activities that he needed to get done with his mother to prepare for the award ceremony. I would catch up with him later that night at the actual ceremony. My day was spent in the Museum of Fine Arts. Boston had one of the largest in the country and I knew that art museums weren't his favorite museum, which made it easy to get lost in there for hours. It's not until a reminder on my phone goes off that I catch a cab back to his house in a rush.

The house was empty when I get there. My dress was laid out in the bed, still in the garment bag. I'd wanted to keep it a surprise from Jackson, but now, I couldn't wait for his reaction.

Rinsing off with a quick shower, I take my time blow drying my hair and combing through it, making sure that it would be silky soft once it was done. The flat iron heats up while I put on a layer of foundation across the clean skin, a little more careful than usual. Most days I just wore a little bit of makeup, enough to make sure that I didn't have any bags beneath my eyes and mascara, but for tonight, I would of a full face. When my hair was curled, I carefully do a waterfall braid across the back, meticulous in making sure no pieces stood out. Once I was satisfied with that, I bent over the counter and put on the rest of my makeup, carefully filling in my brows and doing a silvery smoky eye. A layer of string spray to make sure everything was fine and in place, I took a step back, examining it.

This was going to impress Jackson, I was sure of it.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I take off my robe and put on a thin thong, one that wouldn't show panty lines. Given that the back of the dress was sheer but bejeweled with sequins, there would be no bra worn with it. That was something that he was definitely going to like once he realized it.

Very carefully, I unzipped the dress and hung it out, examining it once more. It was a floor-length Terani evening gown with a delicate illusion bodice covered in sequins with a wraparound design and long illusion sleeves. There was an asymmetric peplum at the waist and finally, the long, smooth skirt with a side slit that would show a little leg. It was a blush pink, soft and feminine. Dangling earrings and my wedding ring were the only things that I needed to pair it with. The dress spoke for itself.

"April?" My husband's voice called out suddenly.

"Just a minute!" I shouted. I hadn't even heard him come in. "Don't come up!"

Unzipping the dress and taking it off the hanger, I'm careful to get in it. It was form fitting but not too tight, and I'm extra careful with my nails to not accidentally rip any of the sheerness on the bodice or sleeves. It takes some twisting to be able to get the zipper up the length of my back, but once I toss my hair back over my shoulders and look at myself in the mirror, I realize that it's worth it.

Arizona had been right. It was the perfect dress. With my hair done and everything else, I could see it now. It was a mixture of sophisticated and sexy. I looked more like a high-class woman than I had in a long time. A smile brightened my lips and I stared at my reflection for a moment. Rarely was I arrogant. But I could be in this moment, looking at myself in the mirror. I almost looked like Princess Ariel in a modern dress. The Little Mermaid always had been my favorite movie growing up.

"April–" The door opened suddenly as Jackson entered.

"Jackson!" I shouted, turning around and attempting to cover my front. "You weren't supposed to see yet!"

"April…" He repeated my name. His jaw was slack and he was openly staring at me, running his hand over his face for a moment and rubbing his chin. "Wow. You look… breathtaking, sweetheart. You look so beautiful." The compliments flooded from his lips quickly.

I glanced down at my toes before back up at him. "Really?" I questioned, chewing my lower lip.

"Really," Jackson stepped forward and closed the distance between us quickly, lifting up my chin so that our eyes met. "You look so beautiful, April. God… if I'd known that you were going to look like this, I would have twisted your arm into coming with one of these things years ago." Before I had the chance to speak again, he lowered his mouth to mine and sealed his lips over mine in a hard kiss. I returned it softly, not wanting to smudge any of my makeup.

"Well, you better get dressed then," I said once our lips were parted, placing my hands on his shoulder. "I still have to put on my heels. I guess it's about time to go, so you better hurry." I reminded him.

While he got dressed, I sat down on the bed and put my heels on before waiting. Now that I was dressed and waiting on him, I could feel little butterflies in the pit of my stomach. For the most part, as I had gotten older and grown into myself, a lot of those nerves that had afflicted me when I was a child had dissipated. But now they were here all over again. This was a big event. I was going not just as a trauma surgeon but also as an Avery, as the wife of the famous Harper Avery's grandson. I was representing both myself and the family. Even though I knew Jackson wouldn't put any pressure on me, that didn't mean that it wasn't there.

"Are you ready to go?" Jackson asked once he finished up, adjusting his watch.

"I am." I nodded, taking the hand that he extended and standing up.

When we got downstairs, there was a limo waiting outside for the two of us. I knew that a car was going to pick us up, but that was even fancier than what I had been expecting. The driver got the door for the both of us and I was careful of my dress as I got into it. Catherine was already sitting in the length of the vehicle, waiting for us.

"Oh, April," she cooed. "You look beautiful, darling, beautiful. I'm so glad that you could come this year."

"Thank you," I smiled, leaning into Jackson as he wrapped his arm around me.

"Are we going to be on time?" Jackson asked as the limo began to move.

"Well, yes, no thanks to you too," Catherine stated with a pointed look. "But we should be just fine to get there and get everything started. You'll both have some time to socialize, of course. And April, you'll be seated with the rest of us. Richard should already be there." She explained.

I nodded along. "I'm just glad that Cristina is going to be there," I stated with a smile. "She's deserved a Harper Avery for a long time. I would be shocked if anyone else won."

Even if Cristina and I hadn't always been on the most friendly terms, that had mostly been during my residency compared to the years that we had both spent there after our boards had been taken. But I knew that she was one of the most talented surgeons of our generation and that if anyone deserved a Harper Avery award, it was most certainly her. I didn't know too much about the other nominees, but I couldn't imagine any of them putting up a lot of competition against her. She was legendary.

Traffic is easy to navigate and the drive doesn't seem like too long before we arrive. The door is opened for all three of us and I let Catherine get out first before I following her, straightening up and smoothing out my dress. Tons of people were already there and gathered, a few quick to approach once they recognized Catherine and Jackson.

"I'm going to see if I can find Cristina," I murmured in Jackson's ear, patting his arm gently as I separated.

It doesn't take too much effort to find her in the crowd. Her hair was the same as it had always been and she had a voice that carried, even in noisy situations. She was surrounded by a few other people, no doubt trying to poke and prod her brain to try and see if they could be anywhere as talented as she was one day. I didn't blame them. I would have loved to be as talented as she was.

"Cristina!" I squealed, getting a hand on her shoulder.

"Kepner." Her voice was surprised, pleasant though not as enthusiastic. "I didn't know that you'd be here."

"I don't usually come," I admitted with a shrug. "But I'm so glad that I could this year. You deserve it more than anyone. I'm happy for you. Congratulations ahead of time, because you're absolutely going to get it this year."

My words prove to be true. When everyone was sitting at the tables and the typical speeches were made, I sit with anticipation for the winner's name to be announced. I can't help but glance at her every now and then. I was sure that her excitement must have been even more intense than mine was. She had always been arrogant, it was a part of her talent no doubt, and I imagined that she had to be sure she would win, too. She had been so close the first time and the only thing that I had stopped it then had been the fact that she worked at an Avery hospital. Now, that was out of the way.

When her name was announced as the winner, I clapped and cheered for her, hanging onto every word that left her lips as she gave her speech. It was a happy moment. The excitement of being here was big enough, but it was even more gratifying to know the winner and know just how deserving of it she was.

Once all of the formalities are over, Jackson and I are side-by-side in a group of people, listening to the chatter about the research that had been done and nominated this year. I knew that I would never be able to earn an Avery myself given that I was married to Jackson, but it was exciting to think about research that I could have done that would have been award-worthy. My satisfaction wasn't dependent on recognition.

"Hey, babe?" Jackson murmured, lips brushing against my ear with the whisper.

"Mmhm?" I muttered, looking up at him.

"Are you about ready to go? Because as gorgeous as you look in that dress... I'm about ready to take it off of you." There was a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, I think I am."


	10. Pumpkin Patch

**_JACKSON_**

"Jackson Avery, you know those Nike's do not match her outfit!"

The annoyed squeal coming from my wife could only earn a hearty chuckle from me as I gave another glance at our daughter. Harriet was wearing an orange shirt with white pants that had little black hearts all over them. I had put her in a pair of little Nike sneakers that were a bright red with the signature swoop in white. Nothing about the outfit seemed wrong to me as far as I could tell, but she had always been much pickier about that kind of thing than I was. Hattie looked cute. But she was the kind of little girl that you could have put in a potato sack, and she would still look cute. She had all the best genes from both of us.

"April, come on, she looks fine," I reasoned.

"You know those don't match," April rolled her eyes. "I want to be able to take pictures of her, Jackson. For both of our mothers. She's going to look adorable running around the pumpkin patch and I want to make sure that she looks nice for them." She pleaded with me.

"And it rained yesterday which means it's going to be muddy, so if you put her in nice shoes, then they're just going to get dirty. Wouldn't you rather have her run around in some sneakers that are much easier to clean?" I pointed out with a raise of my eyebrows, stepping toward her. "You should be honored that I'm willing to let her get her Nike's dirty." I teased.

"Hmm…" she thought out loud. "Okay, fine. You win. We'll go with the Nike's."

I grinned, stepping over and pulling her in by the hips. "She's messy. We'll save the cute shoes for church and other days, alright?"

"Alright, alright," she sighed dramatically, placing her hands on my chest and looking up at me. Bent down, meeting her lips in a brief and chaste kiss.

"We better get going, huh?" I asked.

"Mmhm."

Bending down, I pressed a quick kiss on the growing curve of her stomach that contained our third child before turning to gather everything that we would need. Potty training was going decently well with Harriet so far but we had to be prepared for an accident just in case. She tended to do well at home but not so well whenever we too her anywhere else. Given that she was only two though, it already seemed like she was well ahead of the curve.

Getting the car packed up and loaded with everything we needed, and Harriet secured in her car seat with my phone to entertain her for the car ride as well as one of her CDs playing over the radio, we set out to the pumpkin patch. It wasn't a long drive, just north of the city and in the suburbs. But it was a little longer than what Harriet was used to in the car, over twice the length of the quick to and from the hospital or a ride to the park, and also a bit longer than the drive to Grandma and Richard's house. With enough distractions though, she doesn't seem to notice the increase of time in the car.

"We're here!" April announced in a sing-song as I pulled into a parking spot. "Harriet, are you excited?"

"Yeah!" She shouted enthusiastically.

Getting out of the car, I get Harriet so April doesn't do too much heavy lifting. I was trying to keep a good eye on her and lifting things because I knew that she didn't want to slow down even while she was pregnant. She wanted to do everything with Harriet and me. I could only take off little bits and pieces.

It was one of the nicer pumpkin patches that we had picked out – including options to pick in the field and ones already gathered from the field, hayrides, a hay bale maze, pony rides, and a petting zoo. It was a small fee, three dollars each for April and I, and free for Harriet, but that didn't matter. It took no time at all for Harriet to begin calling out to go over to the petting zoo and I set her down on the ground, empty hand finding one of April's as we trailed behind our excited daughter.

"She's just like you," I mused, glancing down at April. "Straight for all the little animals."

"They're not little to her," she remarked. "She's the little one."

Of course, April was right. Even though the chickens were smaller than she was and the baby goats were, a couple of the animals did tower over her. Those were the exact ones that she went to, though. She ran her hands all over a friendly sheep and I lifted her up so that she could pet the head of an alpaca. She even got to pat a couple of bunnies and rub the belly of a baby spotted pig. She was all giggles and smiles the entire time, radiating infectious joy. The same smile was resting on my wife's lips as she watched our little girl have the time of our life. The mother and daughter paired matched perfectly.

We let her play around with the animals in the petting zoo to her heart's content. It meant that tonight there would definitely be questions about getting some kind of pet of our own, something that I would have to be firm about. She was a little young, and April and I worked too much to take care of a dog properly. Maybe a couple years down the road it would be something to consider.

"Come on, let's wash our hands nice and good now so we can go pick pumpkins." April encouraged Harriet. All three of us took a moment to wash our hands.

The area with pre-picked pumpkins was going to be the best bet so we didn't have to worry about Harriet getting too far out of sight with a big, open field of pumpkins waiting to be picked. It was a bit crowded with other families and their kids, but she was an easy one to keep our eye on. Or maybe that was just something every parent felt.

"Big! Big!" Harriet settled her hands on the biggest pumpkin she could find, pushing at it.

"Do you want to get the biggest one that you can find?" April asked her.

"Sounds just like Mommy," I retorted under my breath, making sure only she could hear.

The jab naturally earned an elbow in my ribcage.

"Yeah!" Harriet shouted.

"Why don't you show us which one you want to get, Hattie? We'll get whatever you want." I spoke to her this time and tried to contain the smirk on my lips as I eyed my wide.

Harriet roamed around from pumpkin to pumpkin, getting her hands on all of them and apparently determining which one she wanted by her ability to push or roll them around. We would get a few – at least a few to carve and then one or two more to keep around for after Halloween passed as general fall decor on the porch. I knew that April wanted to bake a pumpkin pie or two, as well, but I wasn't sure if she wanted to do it completely from scratch or something a little more store bought. Knowing her, it probably wasn't the latter.

"She really does look just like you, you know," I commented as I wrapped my arm around April's waist and pulled her in next to me. Her head rested on my shoulder for a brief moment.

"I see you in her," she disagreed. "Look at those eyes. How can you not?"

"Look at that smile," I countered without hesitation. "Her with those animals? That was all you. She loves them."

April made a thinking noise. "Maybe we should go to my parent's for Thanksgiving or something. Give her a chance to see the farm now that she's a little older and can appreciate it, you know? I think she'd like that. I know it'll be cold in Moline, this late in the year, but it' be nice to get out there and see my family. Then we could do Christmas with your mom and Webber, and everyone else here," she suggested.

"I think that we could manage something like that," I agreed with a nod. Harriet got a lot more time with my mom than my mother-in-law, merely because of the close proximity. "Your parents and sisters will be happy. We can set something up."

"Thank you," she stretched up, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Don't. I think I enjoy your mom more than you do," I chuckled. "And that gives me an excuse to stay away from the kitchen because I know that Karen won't let me."

"That's true," April laughed. "I'll be lucky if she even lets me anywhere near the kitchen."

"That just means more time with your dad." I knew that she would never pick a favorite parent, but it was obvious that April had been a daddy's girl growing up. That was definitely a trait that I had hoped our daughter would get, too. The two of them were the entirety of my life and world now, and that was only going to expand with the birth of our third child, waiting impatiently for a few more months inside of April's belly. "Oh, there goes her hat–"

Letting out a chuckle and quickly chasing after my daughter, I picked up the beanie that was now on the ground and shook out the little bits of grass and dirt that had gotten on it. Wrapping an arm around her middle to stop her, she laughed and squirmed as I pulled it back over her curls.

"Daddy! Silly!" Harriet protested.

"You're going to get cold without it," I informed her, kissing her on top of her head. "Have you decided which pumpkin you want to take home yet? I know you're going to pick the best one."

Straightening back up, April took a moment to catch up with us. She wasn't big enough to be waddling and she certainly wasn't slowed down, but I could tell that she was just taking the time to stretch it out. Plus, her phone camera was out which meant she was getting those photos for our moms as she had said. Fall was her favorite season. It was mine, too. In part because of all of the football games that came on tv, sure, but the weather was reliably decent and Halloween was probably my second favorite holiday. Second to Thanksgiving solely for all of the food that invisibly came with that particular celebration.

"This, Daddy." Harriet placed her hands on one of the bigger pumpkins that were on the lot, decently oval in shape, fortunately, and tried to give it a shake. It was too heavy for her to get too much movement out of it, which seemed like precisely what she wanted.

"Why don't you carry it for her, Daddy?" April suggested with a laugh as if there was any other option.

I reached down and picked it up with ease. "What else do you want, Mommy?" I looked at her.

"I think we'll get two little small ones to keep out on the porch once all of the Halloween decorations come down. Let's get one more to carve." April suggested.

The big one to carve would be Harriet's, more or less. We would let her draw whatever design on it that she wanted to be carved and I would take care of the actual carving portion of it. Then there would be a more traditional one. April was really good about keeping things balanced and making sure that we involved Harriet in as much as possible to assert some of her independence and encourage her creativity.

With two larger pumpkins in my hands and one small one in Harriet's, a more medium one in April's hands, we pay for our selections and head back to the car, loading them up. The exhaustion seemed to hit Harriet almost immediately upon getting in the car. She was practically asleep before we could pull out of the parking lot.

"We got lucky that it didn't rain today," I mused as we drove back to the house. "What do you think she's going to want to carve?"

"Hmm…" Glancing over at April, I can watch her purse her lips. "I'm going to guess a spider. I think that's her big fear. Do you remember that little one that got in the house the other day?" We both laughed at the memory. Neither one of us was scared of bugs, but it seemed like she had gotten that from somewhere still.

"Yeah, that's a fair point," I glanced at our daughter through the rearview mirror. "What about you?"

"Traditional scary face, of course." She answered without hesitation. "We have to have one."

"You're right." As always. "I still don't know how I feel about your costume choice, though."

April laughed. "I'll never get a chance to do it again! Being pregnant and showing during Halloween is lucky. I may as well take advantage of that luck." She countered. "Besides, then Harriet and I get to match. You're the one who needs to get on board."

"A grown man in a Tigger costume is a little weird." I shook my head. "You'll be cute as Pooh with your little belly and she'll be an adorable Piglet. What about Christopher Robin?"

"Is dressing as a boy really less embarrassing than a Tigger onesie?" She questioned.

"Fair." I breathed out, giving a slight shake of the head as I pulled into the driveway, waiting on the garage door to open up before pulling into it and putting the car into park. Harriet was still asleep in the back seat judging from the little look over my shoulder at her, worn out from all of the excitement and running around that she had done today. "I'll do it. But one of the ones where it's got the full head, so you can't see my face."

Her beautiful hazel eyes rolled. "Fine, whatever you want." She leaned over the center console to kiss me gently.

"April?" I murmured against her lips, nipping at her lower one.

"Mmhm?" She asked.

"I love you."

"Love you too, baby."


End file.
